


Poetry in Motion

by SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Ballroom Dancing, Bathing/Washing, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Credence Barebone, Breakfast, Car Sex, Carrying, Clothing Kink, Coffee Shops, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Comfort Reading, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Shushing During Sex, Credence Barebone-centric, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dance Instructor Percival Graves, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Dancing in the Rain, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endearments, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Flowers, Found Family, Friendship, Frottage, Genderfluid Character, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Healing, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Jealousy - Not Main Pairings, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Language of Flowers, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Makeover, Makeup, Male Slash, Music, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Phone Sex, Pining, Playlist, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Original Percival Graves, Protective Original Percival Graves, Protectiveness, Reading Aloud, Romance, San Francisco, San Francisco Bay Area, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing Clothes, Shopping, Shyness, Slash, Sleeping Together, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Surprises, Swing Dancing, Teaching, Tenderness, Top Original Percival Graves, Understanding, Unrequited Love - Not Main Pairings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, genderfluid credence barebone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-08-20 20:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16562384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: A Modern Day AU, set in San Francisco. Percival Graves is a Dance Instructor. Credence Barebone is a recent arrival from New York City, whose friends talk him into attending a Beginner’s Dance Class with them. He soon learns to dance, to love, to live... and to blossom.





	1. I Need To Be In Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novel, and a new chapter will be uploaded at least twice a week. I wrote this to cheer myself up, as well as other fans of this pairing, in the face of the release of the second movie and its sad lack of Percival Graves. It is also an homage to Ezra Miller's bold and beautiful fashion choices. :)
> 
> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updated with each chapter and will end up quite long and varied](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Story Title Song:** Poetry in Motion - Johnny Tillotson
> 
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter 1 Playlist** :  
>  I Need To Be In Love - Carpenters  
>  Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles

Dance classes were Queenie's idea, and Jacob was the first one she convinced to join her. Of course, Jacob would do anything for her, so that was easy.

Tina was harder to convince; she has no real interest in dancing, ever worried about looking silly. Once Newt said he'd like to give it a go, however, she agreed with a shrug and a grin.

Credence envies his friends. He often wonders what it would be like to have someone like that. Someone to whom your happiness matters more than anything in the world. Someone you could make happy with just a smile. He wants that so much, more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. He tries not to think of all the times his foster mother told him he was worthless and completely unlovable. He tries not to believe it, but what does he have to offer, aside from a bundle of fears and insecurities?

"Now, honey, you'll just _have_ to come with us." Queenie tugs at Credence's sleeve so insistently, he almost drops the tray of buns he's bringing from the oven out back into the shop.

"But... I wouldn't have a clue, Queenie."

She giggles. "That's the whole point of dance lessons, silly. You go to learn."

Credence sighs. He looks at his friends - friends and employers, in Queenie's and Jacob's case - and the obvious excuse not to go presents itself readily enough. "I have no one to go with. I'll be the fifth wheel. Literally." He quickly busies himself by placing the tray under the display glass and arranging the buns appealingly, not wanting to see their pitying looks.

No one can deny that it will feel that way to him, no matter what good friends they all are. No matter how much they love the boy who strayed in from the street one day, in search of work - a boy who, despite having come from a terrible foster home, has the sweetest nature imaginable. He might see all this in their faces, if he was looking and able to believe.

"You might meet someone there," says Jacob. "Folks relax when there's music, and you'll get to know a lot of people. Come on, kid, it'll be fun."

"I can't afford it anyway," Credence points out. "Dance lessons are bound to be expensive."

Here all four of them exchange conspiratorial looks.

"It's your birthday in a couple of weeks, Credence. And we thought, well..." Newt grins his silliest grin.

"You're ganging up on me!" Credence heaves a long-suffering sigh, but a smile is already tugging at his lips. He can't help but feel warmed by their friendship. He's never known people like them. And at least they have the decency to look sheepish about their little conspiracy. "All right, I know when I'm defeated. Thank you... for the gift."

This is met with cheers. It's nice to have friends who care about you, but he hopes very much he won't embarrass them.

He also hopes they won't try to set him up with anyone. Girls scare him silly, to be honest. And he had it beaten into him to not even think about boys. As a result, he is more than a little confused about his sexuality. Not that he wants to admit that to his friends, or even to himself.

* * *

Queenie and Tina make it their mission to find the right place for a dance class.

While dinner is bubbling away on the stove, they're poring over the Yellow Pages, newspapers and magazines, and both of them decide that one in the neighbouring Castro District sounds just right. They glance at Credence as they suggest this, but he doesn't react, despite the abundance of rainbow flags he couldn't have failed to notice there.

Credence arrived from New York only a few months ago. He'd got on a bus and kept going as far as he could without continuing by sea.

What had decided him between a ticket to Los Angeles and one to San Francisco was the memory of his foster mother's hateful preachings about the den of sin San Francisco was. It was his first true act of rebellion, going there to spite her. Also, he had seen pictures of it. It looked like a place where there was always a fresh breeze. He felt stifled not only by his home, but by New York City itself.

And, so far, he has met with nothing but warmth and kindness in his new hometown. Whether that proves Mary Lou's repeated accusations that Credence himself is sinful, or whether it simply proves her wrong, he doesn't know.

"Magic Spell - that's a great name for a dance studio. Everyone's bound to learn there." Queenie giggles. She thinks Credence could use a bit of magic in his life and, if nothing else, it should be a good omen.

Credence smiles. "Sounds interesting."

Tina is grinning. "Hear that, Queenie? He's getting interested. This is good!"

Queenie, who's now standing and stirring the pot of stew, laughs.

"Interest isn't the same as talent," Credence cautions. "I'm sure I'll make a terrible fool of myself." He sits down at the kitchen table with Tina, glancing at the ad in the magazine: it has a deep blue background, with a whimsical silver shooting star springing from what looks like a magic wand. Credence's smile widens.

"Honey, we'll all make fools of ourselves together. It's a Beginner's Class we're going to. No one will expect us to do otherwise." Queenie reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. She glances over it to the magazine, where he's begun to absently trace the shooting star. "Make a wish," she suggests.

Credence laughs, but he does, with his eyes closed tight. When he opens them again, he looks at the two girls watching him. "What does one wear to dance lessons?"

"No idea, Credence. Just something nice and casual, I guess." Tina looks questioningly at Queenie. "And comfortable?"

"Yes, something you can move around in." Queenie looks thoughtful. "And turn heads, too." She laughs when Credence looks alarmed. "Don't worry, honey, you'll turn heads, no matter what you wear."

Tina nods sagely.

Credence blushes. He doesn't know where his friends get silly ideas like that.

* * *

On the afternoon of their first class, Credence finds himself in his small room in the house he rents with his friends. The two-storey, slightly run down but comfy, Victorian house accommodates five people easily, and it really cuts down on rent for each of them.

He's frowning at his less than impressive wardrobe, which still suffers from mostly having been chosen by his foster mother. In the end, he puts on his only good pair of black trousers and a white shirt, which he buttons all the way up. Along with the simple black shoes, he looks as if he's off to church, and he hates the plainness of it all. He's always secretly hated plain clothes.

Credence sits down on the bed and opens his bedside drawer, where he keeps a handful of fashion magazines borrowed from the library. He loves to look through them and admire the fine suits the gentlemen in them wear. He can't imagine what people would think if they knew how often he wonders what it would be like to wear the flowing dresses, bright fabrics and soft textures he admires in the women's magazines.

When he exits his room, he nearly runs into Queenie, who looks lovely in a pink floral sundress with costume jewellery pearls and matching cream coloured heels. She always manages to find clothes, often in vintage shops, which make her look like a fashion model, rather than an assistant in a bakery. What she doesn't find, she makes on her sewing machine.

"All dressed?" she asks, looking him up and down. "You look nice, Credence."

Nice. He sighs. A kinder word for boring. If he's honest, he doubts he would wear most of the things he's seen men wear in his new hometown, but that doesn't mean he doesn't envy them their courageous approach to fashion.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Nothing." He pauses, then admits, "I just wish I had something with a bit more... colour."

Queenie gets an adventurous gleam in her eyes. "We can do something about that! Come along."

He lets himself be led to her room and sat down in front of the vanity. She peruses her vast array of make up and, somewhat to Credence's shock, picks up a tube of cherry flavoured, tinted lip balm. "I don't-"

"Let's just see how this looks, and then you can decide, okay? We can easily wipe it off again."

"Okay." Credence allows her to apply the lip balm to his mouth and looks in the mirror when she's finished. There is only the faintest touch of colour, hardly there, but it makes him feel as if he's had a refreshing drink. He smiles.

"That looks lovely. Not that your lips need any help. We girls should hate you for those." She giggles.

Credence stares at her in bemusement. Before he can say anything, she suggests, "How about some eyeliner?"

"Oh no, people will notice that."

"Does it matter?" Queenie looks at him with challenge in her eyes, and he's faintly astonished.

And then Tina wanders in. "What's going on?"

"Just adding a touch of glamour to our Credence." Queenie turns to her sister. "He doesn't want eyeliner, but what do you think... mascara? No one will notice that, he'll just have even longer looking lashes."

"Oh yes, put some on him."

"Mine is brown. Credence needs black. Could you get yours, Teenie?"

Credence sits through this exchange, incapable of believing that they're discussing his make up as if it was nothing scandalous at all. Tina nods and runs off, returning with a tube of mascara, and Credence holds very still while it is being applied. Then he turns to look into the vanity mirror and his eyes widen, which makes his lashes look even longer.

"You look fantastic," Tina says, and Queenie just squeals.

Credence doesn't know what to think. He has a vivid picture of how badly he would be beaten, if he stilled lived with his foster mother, for daring to even think about wearing make up. But it's undeniable - it makes him feel good. Really good. And Mary Lou is, thankfully, a long way away.

"Thank you," he murmurs, still staring at himself. The changes are subtle, but make so much difference.

"Now, we made you even prettier than you are, but we didn't add much colour." Queenie looks thoughtful. "Blusher?"

Credence shakes his head. "I blush every five minutes as it is. I'll look like a tomato."

The girls laugh, and Queenie starts explaining to him about contouring, but then Newt pokes his head into the room. "What's happening here?"

Credence wonders whether Newt will go into shock on seeing him, but Newt just grins good-naturedly when Tina explains.

"We're trying to add colour to Credence." Tina assesses her boyfriend. "Do you have a nice scarf or something you can lend him?"

"Not that mustardy yellow one you like!" Queenie says. "All wrong for his complexion. Also, something smoother, more elegant."

"I have a blue one, hang on."

Newt returns with the scarf, which is made of a soft material and actually turquoise.

"That'll work." Queenie hangs it loosely around Credence's neck. "You want to open some of those shirt buttons too, honey. You look like you're going there straight from an office job."

Newt shudders at the idea of office work. His pet shop is more to his liking.

Credence undoes his top two buttons, and Queenie sighs and reaches for his shirt, undoing another two. Credence protests, but does nothing about it.

"Everyone ready?" Jacob calls out.

"We are now."

"Hey, everyone looks great!" says Jacob, grinning from the doorway.


	2. Love, Your Magic Spell is Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Chapter 2 Playlist** :  
> Magic Spell (Underscore) - Pacifica Music  
> Love, Your Magic Spell is Everywhere - Henri Rene & His Orchestra  
> Sangre Caliente - The Dancelife Orchestra  
> Adios a manolette - Banda Pepe Luiz  
> Prenez Mon Coeur et Mes Roses - Edouard Duleu  
> El Relicario - Angelito Miguel Y Su Orchesta
> 
> (I did my best to find Paso Doble numbers that don't sound like oompah music, but trust me, it's hard; this dance is done to the only type of Spanish music that's not amazing.)

They get to Market Street by cable car, jumping off a little way from the dance studio. 

The building front is painted the same deep blue as the advertisement's background, and there is a magic wand sticking out in front of the narrow marquee, spewing a glittering trail of stars; a blue sign hangs underneath the stars from a nearly invisible string, with gold letters spelling out: Magic Spell Dance Studio. 

Credence is charmed by it. It's warm and welcoming, just like the beautiful old-fashioned street lamps of Market Street.

They make their way inside, still early for the 6 o'clock lesson, but there are a handful of people there already. The studio interior, which is the entire ground floor, save for a hallway, is bigger than the outside indicates, the building reaching back a fair way. The floor is a warm polished wood, and there are chairs placed all around the length and width of it. At the far end of the dance floor is a sound system set up, and the walls are covered in posters and art prints of dancers in many different styles. And in different gender combinations, Credence is surprised to note.

His friends tug him along to a set of free chairs, chatting about their instructors and everything they've learned from the website Credence never looked at. 

Just then, a very attractive dark-skinned woman swishes in, head held high, and heads straight for the sound set up. She's heavily made up and wearing an elaborate Spanish-style dress in mocha tones, which complement her skin and unexpectedly bleached pale hair.

"That must be Seraphina Picquery," Tina mutters.

Credence has no idea who she is, but he wonders why she's ignoring the crowd already gathered there as if unaware of anyone's presence. He starts to worry about the class even more, because he can't imagine her being the kind of person to tolerate mistakes or ineptitude. There's something intimidating about her.

Then he sees movement from the corner of his eye, and his gaze flickers to the doorway, where a man enters on his own. Credence knows at once that he is not here to learn either. The man's posture is exemplary, and he walks in with a confidence and elegance that can only mean he's another instructor and, maybe, even owns the place. Credence knows he's staring, but he can't help it.

He vaguely hears someone say a name, "Graves," but all his concentration is on the dark, well-built figure dressed in black trousers, a blue shirt undone to the top of his black waistcoat, and a pair of shoes shimmering black with silver tips. His shirt sleeves are casually rolled up, and his forearms look strong but finely veined. He glances at the assembled crowd and smiles, nodding in greeting.

Credence swallows around the dryness in his throat as he takes in the tanned skin and the heavy black brows from under which warm dark eyes gleam. The man is only twenty feet or so away when those eyes move over the class, and they stop on Credence.

Credence has no idea that he's sitting there with parted lips and wide eyes, or that Queenie is nudging Jacob and nodding towards him, or that Newt is grinning and whispering something to Tina. Credence has no idea, because he's busy trying to tell his heart to restart.

"Perce," Seraphina Picquery drawls, sounding bored. "It's time to get started."

The man, Percival Graves - Queenie helpfully whispers his name in Credence's ear - blinks. He keeps looking at Credence, his smile softening further and his head tilting a little, and only then does he turn to tell his colleague, "You never rush a good thing, Seraphina."

A few people are chuckling, especially when the woman sneers a little and folds her arms in front of her.

"My fellow instructor is right, however. Welcome to Magic Spell, everyone. I'm Percival, and I'm sure Seraphina has already introduced herself."

Credence is barely taking in the words, completely thrown by the prolonged eye contact. All his concentration is on the deep voice now, and he doesn't know what's wrong with him. No one has ever befuddled him like this, and he's suddenly not only worried he'll embarrass his friends with his clumsiness, but also by melting at the instructor's feet. What is being said only slowly enters his consciousness.

"...Paso Doble, which is either left out of dance classes altogether, or one of the first Latin dances to be taught to beginners. It largely depends on the popularity of it where it is taught." Percival Graves has moved to the centre of the dance floor, so that everyone can hear him equally well. "Now, this dance is actually deceptively simple, but it looks rather complicated. This is due to a lot of dramatic arm waving and over-acting."

There's laughter, and Credence smiles.

"If you can be dramatic, you're halfway there with any dance, to be honest," Percival Graves says with a smile. "I should tell you right away that I despise the origins of this dance in Spanish bullfighting, but keep those origins in mind, because you'll be acting the parts while dancing. Basically, the dance depicts the toreador and the bull - the lady, or the dance partner who follows, being the bull. Charming, isn't it?"

Newt is cracking up, and Tina, frowning, gives him a nudge. "Sorry," he mutters, "but he's funny."

Credence agrees, though this dance sounds more and more terrifying. And he agrees that it doesn't sound nice. Bullfighting. He shudders.

"In short, Paso Doble has its advantages for a beginning dancer so, for the sake of completeness, we'll include it. It's not for everyone, and it's very fast, so don't feel bad if you have trouble with it. Seraphina and I will perform the dance for you first to a standard Paso Doble piece. After that, we'll do some shoulder rolls and stretches that are a good idea at the start and end of every lesson, to avoid injury or strain. Then, we'll break it up into the basic steps for you. Once you're comfortable with those, you'll enjoy adding your own touch of drama."

Seraphina starts the sound system and joins him in the centre of the floor.

They take their positions, a little distance apart. Percival raises one arm above his head, the other hand is on his waist, and Seraphina begins with a short solo in front of him, with some arm waving and a lot of stomping, and then does a couple of turns, before Percival begins to turn as well, as they cover some distance, both of them circling their arms, and the bullfighter connection becomes clear.

Percival might as well be holding the cloth, shaking it out in challenge, and then there are a few more circles around each other, before Percival takes her waist and raised hand, and they start down the dance floor in quick steps. Arms remaining exaggeratedly high and occasionally dipping down suddenly.

Credence blinks. He has trouble seeing this as a simple beginner's dance and is filled with dread. But he soon forgets to watch the fast footwork when his eyes are drawn up Percival's body. He has seen flamenco dancers on TV once, and he thought their movements were similar, but with hand clapping and more pronounced and determined foot stomping. And they generally dance alone, as far as he knows.

But Percival Graves has all the grace and power of a flamenco dancer, his whole persona changed from the man who greeted them so warmly to a stern-eyed, dramatic Spaniard. Credence remembers what he said about over-acting, and smiles to himself.

"Enjoying the performance?" Queenie whispers in his ear. She grins knowingly when he looks at her, blushing.

"He's awfully handsome. I don't blame you."

"Don't tease him, Queenie." Jacob is grinning broadly. "I don't think I'm gonna be flying across the floor like that, just so you're prepared."

"Aww, sweetie, you'll do fine." Queenie beams at him, clinging to his arm, and Credence is somewhat relieved their attention isn't on him anymore.

And then the song ends, and he realises he's paid precious little attention to the actual steps. He sincerely hopes they won't have to do them from memory.

Everyone is instructed to stand up, shake out arms and shoulders, and just start walking around the room, doing arm and leg stretches. They're shown several stretches done more easily with a partner, and encouraged to do them right at the start of the lesson next time.

And then the actual instruction begins, with Percival explaining the steps, while he does the lead dancer's, and Seraphina the follower's, side by side so it's easier to watch them. Credence watches Percival's feet closely.

"The dancer who leads always starts stepping with the right foot, and the one following with the left. Then take tiny steps in place on the ball of the foot, counting 1-2-1-2. That is basically the Paso Doble." Percival makes sure everyone has grasped that much.

"You will either do these steps in place - that's the Sur Place Movement, or the Basic Movement Forward." He walks the tiny steps forwards. "Or you will do the Basic Movement Back." He does the same step sequence backwards. The he steps sideways in both directions. "Step, close, step close. Chasse to the Left. Chasse to the Right. You can do any of these five figures either turning left or turning right."

So far so good, Credence thinks. Then his attention starts to drift back to the instructor, rather than his instructions, and he misses most of what is being said about the Deplacement and the Promenade Close, and only gets a vague sense of the Appel being the part involving the foot stomping and the metaphorical challenging of the bull.

Credence thinks maybe this won't be bad, if he can manage to stick to the basic figures, and the only thing that worries him when they're encouraged to partner up is that he won't find someone to dance with.

His friends pair up, hesitating to see what he will do, and this is what he's dreaded. He sees a couple of women lingering nearby, apparently trying to catch his eye, and he blindly steps forward and asks the nearest one for a dance - a dark-haired woman in her 30s, who looks very pleased, and immediately clutches his arm and pulls him to a more open spot.

Credence shudders at the familiarity, and tells himself not to be so squeamish. He won't be able to learn to dance without touching people. He desperately tries to remember how to even begin. Thankfully, Percival is calling out reminders of what to do, but it's still no good. Before long, Credence's dance partner looks put out rather than pleased, and he doesn't blame her; he's stepped on her toes several times already, muttering, "Sorry", over and over again.

"It's okay," she says through gritted teeth. "I don't know what I'm doing either."

That much is true at least, Credence thinks with only a little relief, and he feels nothing so much as awkward when, despite not yet having mastered the steps, she tries for some of those big arm movements, and they end up hitting the pair dancing nearest to them.

Apologies are exchanged all around, and Credence prays for the lesson to be over soon.

When a different song starts, Credence's partner excuses herself and limps away, and Credence sees Queenie approaching him, while Jacob asks an elderly lady to dance.

"This isn't so bad, is it?" she asks, as they move back and forth on tiptoes and in tiny steps, as if trying to dig holes into the floor.

"It's terrible." Credence whimpers, and some of it is real pain. Luckily for him, Queenie is very swift on her feet, avoiding injury to all four of their feet and embarrassment to him. It doesn't make him feel any less clumsy.

She's laughing, but not unkindly. "It'll get better. Other dances will be completely different."

"I hope so."

He tries dancing with Tina next, which doesn't work out for either for them, before they are all told to take a breather and figure out what's proving the hardest part of the dance. The two instructors walk around the room and offer assistance - Seraphina to the ladies and two men who came with male partners, and Percival to everyone else. Credence is still astonished by how easily men dancing together is accepted here, and it becomes clear to him how apart from the real world he has been raised. And suddenly, it's his turn.

"Hello. Need any help?"

He stares at Percival Graves, who is suddenly next to him, smiling his warm smile again. From so near, he can tell the man is probably about forty, there's a little silver threaded throughout his black hair, and a few black curls are showing in the V of his shirt. "Um..." he mutters.

"Why don't you show me the basic steps as you're doing them, and I'll tell you if you're doing anything wrong. Though I think I might have spotted the problem already."

It's a sensible suggestion, except that Credence suddenly can't move at all. He's forgotten every single step. "I... I can't." He sighs, his shoulders slumping. It's an old habit from the days when he first tried to be noticed as little as possible.

"Hey, it's okay to be nervous." Percival's voice is gentle, patient. "It's only the first lesson, and everything is new."

Credence thinks the man has no idea how true that is. Everything about this is new to him, and the dancing, terrible as he is at it, is the least of his worries. He's never reacted to anyone as he is reacting to him, and he doesn't know what to do with it. His head is buzzing with his foster mother's dire warnings about the evils of lusting after men, even while he finds himself leaning towards Percival, and he realises he's on the verge of losing his balance.

Strong hands are suddenly on his upper arms. "Oh, no. Don't pass out on me. Come on, sit down for a minute." Percival is leading him to the nearest chair.

Credence lets himself be pushed down on it as if he was a child. God, he's so embarrassed. The man had to help him to a chair, because he was going to faint like some damsel in distress in a corset that's too tight.

"I'll be right back." Percival vanishes, but he returns less than a minute later with a paper cup of water. "Here, drink this," he says firmly, and Credence obeys while he sits down next to him and puts his arm over the back of Credence's chair.

Once he's finished, he says, "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." Credence tries to laugh at himself, but it comes out as a cough. "I guess I might be a bit dehydrated," he lies.

Percival is frowning at him when he dares to meet his eyes, but the frown smoothes out immediately. "Make sure to drink plenty before any kind of exercise, even dancing," he says lightly, then adds, "And don't worry about the steps. No one is left behind in my classes, I promise you that. Not every dance will be to your liking, and that's fine." He smiles. "Between us, I hate the Paso Doble myself."

Credence returns the smile. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better about how bad I am at this."

Percival is looking at his mouth now, Credence realises, and he panics that it might be obvious he's wearing lip tint, and the man is bound to think he looks like a freak. But then the brown eyes move up and meet his eyes, and there's no trace of judgment there. "That's a pretty shade on you, but I bet--"

"What's wrong, Credence?" Tina is suddenly there, with Newt in tow, and Credence jumps a little. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tina. Just got a bit dizzy." Credence wishes there wasn't so much fuss about him. He's not used to it. And he really wants to know what the man was going to say.

"I think your friend is better now." Percival stands and smiles at Tina and Newt. "The Paso Doble doesn't quite agree with him."

"It's not a fan of mine either," Newt sympathises.

Tina smiles a little tightly, and Credence wonders why. "Thanks for looking after him, Mr Graves." Her words are friendly, but her eyes are not.

"My pleasure. Call me Percival. And you too... Credence." He murmurs his name very softly, as if it's something special.

"Thank you, uh... Percival," Credence mutters.

"You're sure you're okay? What happened?" Tina is sitting in the chair just vacated, and Newt sits on the other side of him.

Credence is watching Mr Graves walk away to help out the rest of the class struggling with the steps. "I got a bit dizzy, that's all," he reassures her. "Percival agreed that I might be dehydrated."

"Did he?" Tina mumbles. "How would he know?"

Credence frowns at her. "Why don't you like him?"

"Yes, Tina. Why not?" Newt looks similarly confused.

She gives them both a look halfway between surprised and shifty. "What do you mean?" When they don't clarify, she sighs. "It's not that I don't. He seems nice enough. It's just... you seem to have taken quite a shine to him, Credence, and I'm just... He's 41, you know, it's on the website, and chances are he has a wife and kids. I just don't want you to get attached to someone so much more mature and probably unavailable. You're so young."

Credence feels equal parts horrified at being so obvious and annoyed. "Tina, I'm turning 22 next week, not 12." He sighs, instantly feeling bad. "I'm sorry. I know you're just concerned about me." And then he blushes, realising what he should really be saying. "And, I'm not... not that kind of interested in men, or him in particular." His voice goes more and more quiet and uncertain as he gets near the end of the sentence, and he's not sure he's convincing either Tina or himself.

"There's nothing wrong with being attracted to men, Credence," Newt reassures him.

"There... isn't?" Credence asks uncertainly.

Tina shakes her head. "That's right, Credence, there really isn't. And I'm sorry. You don't need another mother hovering over you."

"My mother didn't so much hover as... loom," Credence says, and he's relieved when she smiles at that.

Queenie and Jacob have meanwhile missed them and come looking for them, and by the time they reach their friends, the music stops.

Credence explains yet again about his dizzy spell, which was less a dizzy spell than an identity crisis - he does not want to explain that, even though he is beginning to think his friends might be less horrified than expected.

By this point, however, Seraphina is moving to the centre of the dance floor, which is slowly clearing, and announces, "Okay, people, I have it on good authority that Ladies' choice is a popular ice breaker. So, gentlemen, sit back. And ladies-"

"... as well as gentlemen who don't wish to lead," Percival interrupts from where he is restarting the music.

She continues undisturbed, "Ask the man of your choice to dance."

Credence is looking at Percival when his friends head back onto the floor, and he's floored when he looks front again, and finds several women and girls heading in his direction. He does his best to shrink down in the chair and hunch over, and is quite unaware Percival is watching his discomfort.

An enterprising teenager makes it to him first, and asks him, stuttering profusely, if he'd like to dance, and he supposes it would be rude to say there's nothing he feels less like doing. So he gets up and let's himself be dragged to an empty spot on the dance floor. The girl immediately clamps her hand on his shoulder and fumbles for his hand with the other.

"I'm afraid I'm not very good at this," Credence warns her politely.

She grins. "I bet that's not true."

He doesn't know why she would assume he's pretending, but she finds out soon enough that he isn't. 

"Sorry," he ends up saying several times, with each step on her foot. Whenever he's meant to go forward, he goes back, and vice versa. He's hoping she'll try to take over, but she doesn't. When the song comes to an end, the only good thing to have come out of the whole thing is that she's happy to leave him to his own devices.

"Credence."

He looks up, and sees Percival smiling at him.

"Feeling better?"

He nods. "Yes, but my dance partner isn't feeling great."

Percival is laughing. It's a gentle laugh, with no malice, and Credence finds himself smiling. "You certainly weren't short of volunteers."

Credence frowns. "I don't know why."

"You don't?"

Credence looks into the brown eyes. Percival seems amused. Astonished, even. "No, I don't," he says honestly.

Percival just raises a brow in surprise. "Well, as I started saying earlier, I think I might know what the trouble is. Come with me." He gently takes Credence's forearm and leads him a little further away from the other dancers.

"Clumsiness is my problem," Credence says morosely.

"Not at all." Percival looks at him earnestly. "You're not leading, that's all. You're waiting for your partner to do it."

"Oh. I don't know how. It seems so much responsibility, especially considering I haven't a clue what I'm doing."

That soft laugh again. "There's nothing wrong with preferring to be led. Why don't we try this together, and I'll show you." And Percival takes up the starting position a couple of feet in front of him and nods encouragingly.

Credence stares at him. He's going to dance with him? Percival wants to dance with him. His feet suddenly feel as if they've turned into pudding.

"Class is over," Seraphina announces, strolling past them with barely a glance at Credence.

Graves frowns and checks his watch. "So it is." He looks at Credence with an indecipherable expression. "Would you like to stay a little longer? Or is that a problem?"

"Credence! Hurry, we're going to miss the cable car. And we need to be at the restaurant on time."

Credence bites his lip and looks at Percival. "I... I'm sorry, my friends have a table booked, I need to leave." He doesn't know whether to be relieved or devastated. Yet another new set of feelings for the day.

"That's fine." Percival gives him a half-smile. "You'll like the next lesson better, I think. I'll see you on Friday."

"Yes. I... thank you, for trying to help."

"I've barely started," Percival says cryptically, just as Credence says, "Good bye."

Credence hurries to the door, where his friends are waiting.

"Sorry, honey." Queenie ruffles his hair. "I bet you wish we'd gone off without you, huh?"

Credence blushes and mutters, "Course not."

Queenie glances over his shoulder at the spot where Percival is standing and watching them leave and says, "He does." 

When Credence looks back over his shoulder, Percival smiles at him, and he smiles back.


	3. Can't Help Falling in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updated with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Chapter 3 Playlist:**  
>  Fascination - Al Martino  
> You Light Up My Life - Debby Boone  
> Can't Help Falling in Love With You - Michael Bublé

Credence is glad they signed up for the course with two lessons a week. If he had to wait an entire week to see Percival again, he might drive his friends mad with his edginess. He can't stop going over every look, every gesture, every word from him, and he doesn't know whether he's reading meanings into it all that aren't there. He wonders if Tina is right and Percival really is married. He wonders if it's okay for him to be thinking the things he's thinking at all.

He knows what his foster mother would say, what she would _do_ to him, but he tells himself firmly that she no longer controls his life, even if she still has a stranglehold on his emotions.

By Friday afternoon, he's a nervous wreck.

Queenie has been trying to talk to him about it, and Tina looks permanently worried. Newt's helpful comment, "I do think he rather likes you, Credence," hasn't been very helpful at all, because it's only a guess.

At least there is one thing he can now be sure of - his friends support him and don't think him a freak. And, maybe one day, their good thoughts will cancel out his bad thoughts about himself.

* * *

When they get to class, both instructors are already there. Percival is wearing pinstriped trousers and a black shirt, along with another waistcoat - this one has a scarlet red satin back. He looks breathtaking, Credence thinks.

He has no idea what he himself looks like. According to his friends: great. Queenie put make up on him again; this time he allowed a thin line of eyeliner on his upper lid only, asking her to make it as unnoticeable as possible; mascara and the same lip tint as on Tuesday. He's wearing one of Newt's shirts this time, and it's a nice blue similar to the scarf he wore on Tuesday, with black trousers.

Queenie snapped a dainty silver bracelet on his right wrist just before they left home. "This will sparkle at him when he dances with you."

Credence doesn't think that will happen. He's been telling himself firmly to not even expect it. Percival is probably relieved he didn't have to make good on the offer to dance with him. He was surely just being helpful to his most hopeless student; after all, he did tell him no one would be left behind in his classes.

Trying to firmly keep all this in mind doesn't stop Credence from hoping against hope that Percival will dance with him. That he will hold him in his arms.

They're learning to waltz today. Slow Waltz, as there is apparently a fast one - the Viennese Waltz. While Percival tells them all about 30 versus 60 beats per minute, and different steps, his eyes meet Credence's several times.

Then Percival and Seraphina dance together, and Credence just gasps. Waltzing looks so effortless and graceful, he can't imagine he'll ever get the hang of it. But at least the steps are slow, and there's a beautiful soft up and down motion to it like lily pads floating on a pond. At least, there is when the dancers know what they're doing.

Credence suddenly wonders whether Percival and Seraphina are together and, whether in private, she actually smiles - smiles at Percival and makes him happy. And his heart _hurts_ at the mere possibility.

In fact, he's so upset by it, he doesn't notice for some time that Percival looks at _him_ more often than not, rather than at Seraphina. When he does at last notice, there's no chance of watching their footwork anymore.

They go through the warming stretches, and then they're shown the steps, and Credence tries to pay attention to Seraphina's instructions, he really does. He is taking Percival's advice to heart that he might not want to lead. He knows it's true. So it's Seraphina's steps he should be studying, but he is helpless to keep his gaze from following Percival's polished shoes moving almost soundlessly over the wood floor.

He thinks he'll remember the steps: box step, progressive basic, and closed twinkle. None of it looks impossible.

Credence hopes for the best once they are told to practise with a partner. He looks around for someone willing to lead him. He doesn't like his chances. He can see Tina and Newt talking, and Newt starting towards him, wearing a kind smile, but Jacob is holding him back with a hand on his arm and grinning at Credence. For a moment, Credence doesn't know what's going on.

"Hello, Credence. May I have this dance?"

Credence's head turns so quickly, his neck cracks. "Oh, I... yes, Mr-- Sorry, Percival."

"There's no need to be nervous." Percival leans in close enough for Credence to inhale his scent - a warm, sensuous blend he can't define. His voice is low and deep when he tells him, "You'll be perfectly fine with me, I promise."

"I... know. Yes." Credence knows his voice is trembling. His whole body is trembling. Aside from that, he truly knows very little, and he hopes no one will ask him difficult questions in his present state of mind.

A warm hand lands on Credence's waist, and his right hand is raised in Percival's left, and he's being pulled closer. When he meets Percival's gaze, he can hardly breathe.

"One advantage of waltzes is that the music tends to be beautiful. Calm and romantic," Percival tells him. "Another is that there is time to look into your partner's eyes."

"Oh," Credence says softly, thinking those are good advantages when one's dance partner has such beautiful eyes.

"You light up my life," Percival says then, smiling when Credence's eyes widen impossibly. "That's the song."

"I see." Credence's voice is a mere croak.

A gentle tightening of the hand on his waist, and something about the way Percival's hips and shoulders move, tell him he's about to step towards him with his right foot, so he steps backwards with his left foot, and he is rewarded with a warm smile and, in no time at all, they've done several sets of steps, slow turns and progressions free of incident.

Aside, that is, from Credence's heart pounding nearly out of his chest, his teeth chattering with excitement, and his hands probably getting sweaty - that thought fills him with dread.

Percival doesn't seem to be worried about his hands. He just keeps looking at him, aside from very occasional glances over Credence's shoulder to make sure they're not dancing into anyone. They are, in fact, at the very end of the dance floor by that point, and Credence doesn't even know how they covered so much distance.

When Percival lets go of his waist and says, "Mirror my arm movement," Credence does so, holding his left arm out to the side, until Percival raises their still connected hands and says, "And turn."

Credence lowers his left arm and turns clockwise under their raised joined hands, with softly bouncing steps, and then Percival's right hand is back on his waist, and he puts his left on Percival's shoulder again, and they share a bright smile.

They do a turn every few bars of the music after that, and it's so wonderfully easy. Credence feels as if he's floating. He's lost all concept of time and place and, suddenly, he understands why people love to dance. This might well be the most perfect, magical way to move there is. His smile widens. He really is under a Magic Spell. He wants to laugh out loud, he feels so wonderful.

"Beautiful," Percival murmurs, his eyes moving slowly over Credence's face. His hand is sliding up his spine as they continue dancing, firmly enough to be felt along every inch of it, making him tremble. He breathes, "Credence, lean your upper body back when I pull you closer."

Credence gasps when they are suddenly connected chest to hips, and he leans back, feeling safe to do so with Percival's hand firm high up on his back now, his left elbow positioned higher by Percival's raised arm. Now they are combining the other moves with the occasional slow back and forth step in place, and Credence feels Percival's thigh press against his, and he wonders when the next dizzy spell will hit.

"This is the basic weave. The steps are longer, and the dancers' bodies are pressed close for better balance." Percival's voice is husky.

Credence shivers at the sound of it. "Better... balance?" he murmurs disbelievingly, and Percival nods and smiles. He isn't sure that being pressed against Percival like this is doing his balance any good at all. In fact, he's quite amazed he's following instructions without a single mistake, on the very first try, considering what a mess he is.

"You're doing so well, Credence," Percival praises. "I knew a gentler, more romantic dance would suit you much better." He looks genuinely proud and pleased.

"Thank you," Credence all but whispers, and he hopes Percival can even hear him. Percival's shoulder under his left hand is warm and firm, as is the grip of his right hand around Credence's palm. And he feels safe and secure, as if he couldn't possibly take a wrong step.

They've danced right into the next song, he eventually realises, and Percival seems to have no intention of letting him go. That's fine with Credence. He feels as if he's in a dream. He must be, because he thinks he can hear Percival singing along very, very quietly. 

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be..."

He really is singing, ever so softly, and Credence swallows. He looks deep into his eyes, so in tune with his steps by this point, he doesn't even have to think about his own. He just follows his lead instinctively.

Dancing with Percival feels so right and natural now, and so does looking into the dark eyes and wanting to see himself in them. Why did he ever think it might be wrong? Why would anyone think so?

They're dancing through all the steps and turns, with no more verbal instructions, and it just takes a nudge or a step or a press of a hand to tell Credence what Percival wants him to do. And Credence thinks that now, they too might look like floating lily pads, and the thought makes him happy. He can't help smiling.

Percival's gaze is so soft when he sings quietly again, "Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can't help falling in love with you..."

He doesn't dare to out loud but, in his mind, Credence is singing along too. When the song comes to an unexpectedly abrupt end, and no new one begins, it takes both of them several more steps, and a full turn, to even notice the absence of music.

And then there's applause, and Credence turns around to look at the rest of the dancers, now at a fair distance. Apparently, the rest of the class have decided to just watch the show. He feels his face burn, especially when he sees his friends. Newt has his arm around Tina; he's grinning, and she looks to be on the verge of either laughing or crying. Queenie is bouncing on Jacob's arm, both of them smiling broadly.

Only when Credence turns back to face an amused looking Percival does he glimpse Seraphina out of the corner of his eye. She's standing at the sound system, glaring at him. He thinks he would feel worse about her annoyance if Percival's arm wasn't still around his waist and his eyes weren't meeting his right then.

"We're quite a team."

Credence bites his lip and nods.

* * *

When class is over, it's clear Percival is trying to hold him back, and he wants to stay, but Seraphina is breathing down his neck, and Credence would just as soon not give her any opportunity to talk to him. But he does linger on the other side of the door, out in the hallway, having told his friends he needs to use the bathroom. He has to know what's going on before he falls any harder.

"There are other people in this class, Perce, not just that kid," Seraphina is saying.

Percival snorts. "Is that your problem? You think I'm neglecting my duties to everyone else?"

"Aren't you?" she hisses.

"No, Seraphina. I run this studio, I select the music, I do all the initial instructions, both of us show the steps, and both of us are supposed to ensure everyone has a dance partner and no one falls behind. That includes dancing with students for whom there is no suitable dance partner."

"And you're the only suitable dance partner for the kid?" Her voice is mocking.

"He's not a kid. And as it happens, yes, I am. He prefers following to leading, and the only men here willing to dance with men brought partners."

When she scoffs, he adds, "Be a little friendlier and helpful to the class yourself. You're supposed to make people feel welcome, not intimidated. And, for heaven's sake, stop acting like a brat in front of the whole class."

"Oh, please. Is that what you're doing with him? Being _friendly and helpful_?" Her voice is getting louder by the moment, and Credence doesn't know whether to stay or run. The woman elicits a cold terror in him similar to his foster mother.

Tina is coming back in and walking towards him then, obviously to check if he's okay, and when she frowns at him eavesdropping, he shakes his head and hold a finger across his mouth. She can tell him off later.

"What business is it of yours?" Percival's voice is significantly less calm now. "Don't forget, Seraphina, I own this studio, and you're my employee. You don't tell me how to do my work or live my life."

There's a pause before she says, "I thought I was part of your life."

Credence's face falls, and he feels cold as ice. He almost runs right then, and Tina looks ready to drag him away, but Percival's voice holds him in place.

"You've only ever been part of my professional life, Seraphina, and I've never done anything to make you think otherwise. Quite the opposite." There is a moment's quiet before he adds, "We've talked about this before, for heaven's sake, and I'm _trying_ to be sympathetic, because I know how you feel about me. But you need to get it into your head that I'm gay, and if the sole reason you're continuing to work here is some hope that will suddenly change, you're wasting your time. Nothing and no one will change who I am, not you or any other woman. You need to get over that idea. For your own happiness as much as anything."

"Perce!" She's huffing with anger and a certain desperation now. "You're not seriously saying that boy-"

"Stop right there." Percival's voice is hard and stern now. "I'm not discussing him with you, nor the nature of my feelings for him. If you say one single word against Credence, if you have any notion of harassing him out of this class, or if you even so much as glare at him again the way you did earlier, keep in mind that you're not irreplaceable."

There's a gasp from her, and quieter ones from Tina and Credence. "You'd fire me over this? Over _him_? We won our first competition together before he was born!"

"Enough. If you're incapable of treating him nicely, along with everyone else who pays good money to come here, learn and have fun, then you're welcome to walk out anytime. You're a great dancer, Seraphina. Don't think that means you're excused from being a nice person."

Credence has heard enough. He rushes outside, Tina hot on his heels, to join up with their friends.

"Are you okay, Credence?" Jacob asks. "You look all flustered."

"I'm fine." Credence is smiling. In fact, he's beaming from ear to ear. "Really, I am."

His friends exchange meaningful looks, and Tina can't help but smile when he bounces down the couple of steps to the sidewalk, skips to the centre of it, and does a wild spin with his arms stretched out to his sides and his face raised up.


	4. A California Serenade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter 4 Playlist:**  
>  San Francisco - Scott McKenzie (You know it had to come; this is Credence's shopping theme.)  
> Clap Your Hands - Parov Stelar (This is where the actual dance class starts.)  
> Serenade - Nikola Vujicic  
> I Wanna Love Him So Bad - The Jellybeans

On Saturday morning, Credence gathers up all the spare money he has and asks Queenie and Tina to go shopping with him. They readily agree, and the three of them set out for Haight Street, on Queenie's advice.

She's told Credence to take along anything he doesn't want anymore, and he's cleared out most of his closet, hauling it all with him in a couple of shoulder bags. The girls help by taking another one each. They find a second hand store which buys his castoffs, though he's not surprised he doesn't get much for them. No one in San Francisco wants to walk around looking like a choir boy.

Still, it ups his budget a little, and they visit several second hand and Boho stores. The girls pick up a couple of things themselves, but it's mostly a case of refreshing Credence's wardrobe.

Neither of them bothers asking why his old clothes suddenly no longer suit his needs. They just smile knowingly at each other when he goes out of his way to look for brighter and more cheerful colours and patterns.

"Honey, I bet he'd love this!" Queenie calls out to him at one point, and his eyes widen when she shows him a loose dark red shirt with lighter red dots and wide, translucent sleeves gathered at the wrists; it looks like silk, but probably isn't, and it doesn't even _have_ buttons from the neck to about the centre of the chest.

"Percival, you mean?" Credence mutters innocently, and he isn't surprised when she bursts out laughing. In fact, he joins in.

He ends up buying the fiery shirt, hoping he'll be brave enough to wear it at some point. He also ends up with tapered black pants, both white and dark grey jeans, a pair of black and white oxfords, and several more long, loose shirts in colours that would make Mary Lou go blind - a lilac one with a bit of frilly detail at the collar, a soft peachy red one, and a purple one with multi-coloured embroidery details. He thinks hard about the sunshine yellow one with dandelions and flying spores all over it, but can't resist it in the end; it makes him smile. He also gets a couple of white ones - one with a contrast collar and cuffs in red, the other sporting flower shaped gold buttons.

When he thinks Tina and Queenie aren't looking, he brushes past the selection of dresses and skirts, trailing his fingers longingly over velvet and chiffon, frills and lace. There's a scarlet red, drop waist halter dress with an uneven fringe hem and silver accents along the décolletage, and Credence thinks it looks like a dress for dancing. He sighs. Where would he dance in something like that, except in a dark room on his own?

On his way out the door of the last store, he spots a cute black blazer flaring so wide, it could easily be a ladies' swing coat; its black and white pinstriped lining makes him think of Percival's immaculate outfits. His face drops when he sees the price, and he reluctantly leaves it behind.

* * *

Once they're settled into a booth in an ice cream parlour for a well deserved shopping break, Tina pushes a tiny bag across the table to Credence and exchanges a grin with Queenie.

"What's this?" Credence asks, abandoning his mint choc chip sundae temporarily.

"You'll have to look, silly!"

"But... it's not my birthday yet, and besides, I already have my gift." Credence peers inside, smiles, then withdraws a charm bracelet with half a dozen little dangling hearts.

"It's just a small thing we thought you might like," Tina says.

"One heart for yourself, and one for everyone you care about?" Queenie suggests.

Credence, predictably, blushes. "Thanks. You two are so sweet."

They say, in almost perfect unison, "We know," then look at each other in surprise, and Credence dissolves into giggles. The girls join in and, if they're starting to attract attention from neighbouring tables, they couldn't care less.

Credence has been filled with low-level excitement since the previous evening, and the Goldstein sisters are just happy to see him finally start to relax and shake off the horrors of his past. Even Tina, who continues to worry about his attraction to a man so much older, is starting to wonder if there's not something magical about Percival Graves after all.

* * *

Tuesday's lesson does not cover the Viennese Waltz as announced. Percival tells the class on arrival that he's decided to shake things up, quite literally, and return to the waltz at a later time.

"There's nothing like the Jive to liven up a class," he says, smirking.

"Sounds a little scary," Newt announces.

"Ooh, the Jive is real old-fashioned. I've seen them dance it in old movies." Queenie, who is notoriously fond of old slapstick comedies and musicals, is beside herself.

Percival, who is stealing Credence's breath away with his rolled up sleeves and suspender look, is hovering nearby. "Quite right, it's a dance from the 1930s, popularised by Cab Calloway."

"My little expert." Jacob beams at Queenie.

Newt starts tapping his foot when the music starts, and so does Credence. "That looks like fun, actually." Tina stares at him goggle-eyed and a little worried.

Percival is addressing the class now. "Jive is a very versatile, mid-tempo Swing dance. You can dance it to a lot of songs from the 30s right through to the Electro Swing of today, and any number of tunes from in between. Electro Swing is what you'll hear a lot around here. It's fairly unbeatable when it comes to getting people moving." He looks around at everyone's reactions and smiles. "And it's always a winner with classes."

Percival and Seraphina - who looks as if she's ironed her features into immobility, with a crease where a smile should be - take their places and start dancing, and Credence can't help but smile at the bouncy dance, not to mention the song. And even though it all looks rather wild and crazy, he can actually make out the step progressions. There are lots of little spins and hip swings, and some turns which don't look terribly hard. He wonders when dancing stopped scaring him and doesn't have to dig very far back in his memory.

He goes out of his way not to let his eyes move up Percival's body, the high-waisted grey trousers clinging to his hips and waist far too nicely. If he's peering at him more than he should while doing stretches, it's only because he doesn't need to concentrate on anything else.

He does pay very close attention to Seraphina's step instructions, following them in great detail. After the basic step sequence done in place comes the Fallaway Rock. Then they learn the Fallaway Throwaway and The Link. The footwork for nearly everything in Jive looks fairly similar, except the Toe and Heel Swivels - Percival deems those too advanced at this point, but the arm movements are different, and there are several different walks and types of turns. Next they learn how both dancers can change places two different ways and change hands behind the lead dancer's back. The American Spin involves a turn, letting go of each other. American Spin with Rolling off the Arm has the lead dancer's right arm around his partner's waist in a temporary embrace. Then there's the Hip Bump, or Hip Boom - a sideways bumping of hips, with the outside leg of each dancer raised at the knee, free arms flung up. Stop & Go is the only one of the fancier turns they'll be learning in the Beginner's course. And the Mooch is danced side by side, in a kind of sideways embrace.

Credence smiles softly to himself, deciding he's really going to like this dance, if he can manage to keep his concentration.

Soon, Percival approaches him with a smile, just as another great tune starts, and offers his hand. "Will you dance with me, Credence?"

Credence is only too happy to take the offered hand and is pulled close to him, and they start slowly on the basic steps in place.

"Hello there," Percival says. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Yes, thank you. My friends and I went shopping most of Saturday, and we lazed around on Sunday recovering. And you?"

Percival laughs. "Mine was less thrilling than that. Preparing classes and stocking up the pantry." His eyes move over the peachy red shirt Credence is wearing. "If that's new, nice choice. You look positively invigorating."

"Thank you." Credence ducks his head and bites his lower lip.

"No lipstick today?"

Credence blinks. "Oh, I... no, I forgot. I was in such a hurry-" He blushes. "I mean, we were running late. Too many customers in Jacob's Bakery."

"Pity. For a moment, I thought you were going to say you were in a terrible hurry to get here."

Credence neither confirms nor denies this, he just smiles softly, and Percival surprises him with, "For the record, you don't need it with that pretty mouth. Although that touch of colour does look very nice on you."

Credence takes his first misstep, right onto Percival's foot. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!"

To his credit, the man doesn't wince or even flinch. "Whatever for? You're a feather."

Credence laughs.

They go through all the step progressions and place changes a couple of times, and Percival only names each the first time. Then they do the Hip Bump a few times, and Credence is giggling to himself at Percival's facial expressions - over-acting again, this time for his entertainment. They do a few American Spins, both with and without the Rolling off the Arm.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Percival tells him the next time they go into the spin. "This one goes with the Silver course, but I pulled it forward to give me an excuse."

Credence, whose back is against Percival's chest at that point, with Percival's arm around his waist, doesn't really need to ask, but he wants to hear it. "An excuse for what?"

Percival laughs softly, his breath stirring the hair at the back of Credence's head. "To hold you close."

Credence is smiling when he's spun back around to face him, and when Percival asks, "Do you think that's terrible of me?" he nods his head hard enough to make his curls bounce. 

Percival chuckles. "You're right. I'm a terrible man. Keep dancing with me anyway?"

Since wild horses couldn't tear him away, Credence generously agrees to do so, and is rewarded with another spin.

"Time to practise the Stop & Go." 

They're dancing with Percival's left hand holding Credence's right, facing each other, and when Percival pulls him in for a turn under his raised arm, and goes straight into a sudden stop, right hand on Credence's waist, he is in almost perfect sync with him. When they do it again, Percival bends his left knee as if he's going to go down on it, and winks up at Credence, right hand on Credence's waist. Credence does the little hip swing to the left, then freezes with his arm straight up, fingers gracefully pointing, hip still out to the side; he feels Percival's fingers tighten above it.

Percival whistles softly. "Oh, but you're a fast learner."

Credence smiles bashfully. "I'm not. This dance is so much fun though."

"I was hoping you'd like it. Jive has been called a conversation on the dance floor, because it's all about the dancers communicating with each other and the music, and there's a lot of room for improvisation. It's all about the lead and follow, so the more in tune you are with your partner, the more fun it is. Let's do a few turns."

And they do, turning and turning until Credence starts to lose his balance a little, and Percival's hold on him simply tightens, and they return to the basic steps.

"Everyone doing okay?" Percival calls out to the rest of the class, and there are several affirmatives.

"No problems." Seraphina's voice is flat, but at least she's keeping an eye on things and actually dancing with a man whose partner isn't there today.

"Great. We'll take a break after this song," Percival says. "If anyone hasn't tried the Mooch yet, give it a shot." He looks hard at Credence, then grins. "That includes us."

Credence nods, and they effortlessly do the side by side steps, Percival's arm warm around his back, fingers tight on the side of his waist, while his arm rests along the top of Percival's back and shoulders.

"This must be hard when there's a big height difference between dancers," Credence muses.

"Adjustments of the poses always help but, to be honest, dancing is easiest and most relaxed when the height difference is negligible." Percival draws him close again. "So you and I could dance for hours without discomfort."

Credence laughs. "I don't think I could handle that." When Percival pretends to look crushed, he quickly adds, "I'd soon run out of steps I know."

"We'd just go 'round and 'round, until you know more of them," Percival tells him, spinning him twice in a row, and Credence is actually out of breath when they stop and everyone is told to take a break and have some water from the cooler.

While Credence sips from his paper cup, Percival makes the rounds, answering questions and helping anyone who has trouble with the steps. Seraphina does the same, making sure to not even look in Credence's direction, which is more than fine with him.

Jacob and Queenie come over, while Tina and Newt get some tips, and Queenie giggles. "You two look adorable dancing together, just so you know, honey. He's a real handsome guy."

"Hey, do I need to be jealous?" Jacob asks, pretending to sulk.

Credence grins, and Queenie slaps his elbow. "Aww, sweetie, I've got the guy I need. Besides, Mr Graves is all Credence's, anyone can see that."

Credence inhales the water into his sinuses, and Jacob slaps his back, while Queenie giggles unrepentantly.

Percival gives some final instructions to the group to work on the Stop & Go and the Mooch in particular, and then he comes over. He smiles at Queenie and Jacob. "Hello, checking on your friend?"

"Nah, he's just fine." Queenie hides her grin in her cup.

"Hi. This is Queenie, my girlfriend, and I'm Jacob." Jacob holds out his hand, and Percival shakes it. Then he shakes Queenie's.

"Very pleased to meet you both. You know, Credence is a natural dancer."

"I'm not!" Credence protests. "I made a mess of the Paso Doble."

"We didn't do so great, you know," Queenie reassures him. "And you should have seen Tina and Newt!" She cackles.

Even though Credence did try dancing it with Tina, and it was pretty awful, he's unconvinced anyone could mangle a Paso Doble worse than he did, but Percival reassures him.

"You weren't that bad at it, Credence, and you've not made a mess of anything since." He leans in towards Queenie and Jacob and says, "If it was your idea to bring Credence along for lessons, I'm deeply grateful."

Credence already doesn't know what to do with himself, and then Jacob blurts out, "Oh yeah, it's his birthday present."

"Oh, when was your birthday?" Percival asks, looking at Credence.

"It'll be tomorrow." Queenie pokes a finger tip at Credence's right cheek - both of them are pink - and grins. "His first one in San Francisco."

Percival is clearly amused at Credence's embarrassment over all the attention. "I'm sure it'll be a good one, but I won't congratulate you in advance, that's bad luck."

"Is it?" Credence asks, surprised.

"It is when your roots are in Ireland, and you're obliged to have a superstition tucked away for every occasion."

Everyone's laughing, and Percival says, "Well, break is over. Time for more practice. I hope you don't mind my keeping Credence all to myself for every dance?"

"Not at all," says Jacob generously.

Queenie is smirking. "I'm sure he's in real good hands."

Credence covers his face and whimpers. He loves his friends, but dear God.

Warm fingers prise his hands away and tug at them, and Percival is smiling at him. His heart thumps loud enough to be audible when the man says a rather absent, "Excuse us, Queenie, Jacob?" to his friends, his eyes not leaving Credence's, and walks backwards to lead him a few steps away.

 _I Wanna Love Him So Bad_ is the next song - Credence guesses it's probably from the 50s or 60s - and he thinks he might, after all, not survive the Jive. They go through the walks and the basic steps for a bit.

And then, Percival draws him a little closer than strictly necessary. "Do you mind my asking how old you'll be tomorrow?"

Credence briefly considers upping his age by a few years, in case Percival decides he'd rather not dance with a child, but he knows he couldn't lie to him. "I don't mind. Twenty-two."

"Sweet Jesus." Percival groans. His eyes move over Credence's face. "Are you sure you don't mind dancing with an old man?"

Credence blinks at him, then looks around as if he's searching. "I don't see one, but I think I'd rather keep dancing with you, if that's okay."

That makes Percival laugh. "Bless you for that, my sweet boy."

Credence swallows. A little shiver runs down his spine, and he doesn't know what to say, so he just looks dazedly into the brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, calling you that," Percival says. His hand on Credence's back moves in a small circle as if to reassure him.

"No! I... I'm not offended. Not at all." Credence smiles a little. He feels as if all his nerve endings are meeting in the spot on his back being caressed by Percival's hand. He's blushing, he can tell, and Percival smiles back knowingly.

"I see." Percival sounds husky. "I'm very glad to hear it." He leads Credence into a change and a spin, then pulls him close again. "I suppose you have big plans for tomorrow. Or are you working? You mentioned a bakery."

"Yes, it's Jacob's. Not really plans as such. The bakery is closed tomorrow, and I guess we'll do something, but I'm not allowed to ask about it." Credence grins.

"Well, if there's one thing that's important on a birthday, it's surprises." Percival turns him into the spin which leaves Credence's back against his chest, and whispers, close to his ear. "The best things in life happen when you least expect them." He lets him roll off his arm. "Like you turning up for my classes, just like a spring breeze in the middle of winter."

Credence inhales sharply. He can't help smiling, but he can hardly meet Percival's eyes, now they're face to face again. "That's very nice of you to say," he murmurs.

"I mean every word, Credence," Percival says, briefly letting go of his waist to raise his chin.

It's not a touch Credence was expecting, and he gasps when their eyes meet.

"Every single word." Percival takes his waist again, and they stick with the basic steps.

"Even though it really _is_ spring?" Credence can't help but ask.

"Who's talking about seasons? Spring is a state of mind," Percival says, smiling. "And more importantly, a state of the heart."

Credence swallows, just holding Percival's gaze. He has no idea what to say, but as far as the state of his own heart goes - it's alive with a kind of joy he's never felt before.

* * *

At the end of the class, Credence goes to retrieve another cup of water. He drinks it at the cooler to get his wits together, and only then returns.

Percival is talking to Jacob and Queenie, and he figures they're getting some pointers about their dancing. All three of them look at him when he joins them, and he gets the impression they were talking about him. Oh no, what did they say?

Newt and Tina join the little group, and his friends excuse themselves, saying they'll wait for Credence outside.

"See you on Friday," Credence says hesitantly to Percival. Three days suddenly seem like a very long time.

"Oh yes." Percival smiles and takes his left hand with his right. He raises it between them and holds it to his own chest with a little squeeze. "I'll see you Friday, Credence."

Credence bites his bottom lip. He considers inviting Percival over for his birthday the next day, but it's not just his house, and he doesn't know what his friends have planned. And Percival might not want to see him again so soon anyway.

Even though Percival is holding his hand to his heart, and looking at him so softly, Credence can't quite gather up enough courage to be so forward, so he just smiles, slowly retrieves his hand and turns to leave.


	5. Old-Fashioned Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Chapter 5 Playlist** :  
> They Long To Be (Close To You) - Rumer  
> Prince Charming - Linda Laurie  
> Old-Fashioned Love (Nikola Vujicic Remix) - Tia Brazda, Nikola Vujicic
> 
>  
> 
> _There is no dancing in this chapter at all. *gasp* Yes, I know! Have a mental playlist anyway. ;)_

It's Wednesday morning. Credence wakes up because his window is open, and there's a bird on his window sill, singing its heart out. When Credence opens his eyes, he is already smiling, because his first thought is of Percival, and his second that it's his birthday, and that, if it wasn't for his birthday gift of dance lessons, he never would have met him.

He stretches his long limbs all over the bed - a slightly creaky metal-framed antique - and then snuggles back under the duvet, turning on his side and hugging the pillow with both arms.

He dreamed of Percival last night, and he wishes he could remember every detail of the dream clearly. They were dancing, he knows that much and, because it was a dream, he danced as if he'd been born to it. He doesn't know what he was wearing in the dream, but it was something wide and airy, trailing behind him and flowing all around them both like a cloud, and they were laughing, because they could barely see anything with the voluminous thing Credence was wearing. But they could see each other, and there was a scent of flowers everywhere, and they were so happy.

Credence is jolted from his memory of the dream by the front door bell, and he lifts his head to peer at the alarm clock. It's only a few minutes after 8 a.m., and everyone agreed they were going to sleep in today.

He starts to reluctantly climb out of the warmth of the bed to answer the door, but then he hears voices. Someone's already answered it. No wonder, his room is on the top floor. Each of his friends is closer to the door than he is.

"Credence, birthday boy, get yourself downstairs right now!" Tina is calling out.

His eyes widen and he calls back, "Coming! Just a minute!"

He's still fumbling with the tie of his bath robe when he gets to the bottom of the staircase, and there stands Tina with a flower delivery man. Credence gasps. He can barely see his face past the huge bouquet of pink roses the man is holding out in front of him.

"Delivery for Credence Barebone," the man says, just as if the receipt of a delivery of roses was something that Credence could ever have expected to happen in his life.

"Oh! Yes, that's... that's me."

Tina is chuckling, and Credence quickly skips forward and takes the armful of blush pink flowers; they're wrapped in translucent gold and silver foil and tied with a vast golden bow.

"There's a note included, sir. Have a good day." And the man casually tips his index and middle fingers to his cap, and then he's off.

"Thank you!" Credence calls after him.

"Oh my God, honey." Queenie comes tiptoeing down the stairs in her dainty pompom slippers, with Jacob hot on her heels.

"Gee, I wonder who those might be from?" Jacob is laughing, grabbing Queenie just as she's about to trip in her excitement.

Tina has, meanwhile, counted the roses. "There are exactly 22," she says. "Wow."

Credence feels warm all over, and he can't stop smiling once he plucks the card from inside the bouquet and flicks it open with one finger.

  


_Happy Birthday, Credence. ___

_I hope all your wishes and dreams come true this year. Please let me know if you need help with any of them. ___

_Yours, Percival. ___

_P.S.: If your friends are willing to share you today, would you care to go for a drive with me this afternoon? And dine with me, too? Please. My phone number is on the back of the card. ___

He actually sways a little against the side of the staircase, trying to resume his breathing, which must have stopped partway through the note. He has no idea everyone is just looking at him expectantly.

"My goodness, he's swooning!" Queenie yelps. Everyone laughs, and it breaks the spell. 

Credence beams at them. "He's asked me to go for a drive with him this afternoon, and for dinner. Is that okay? You had no other plans?"

Jacob assures him, "We'll have you here for breakfast and lunch, Credence. We didn't bother making plans beyond that once he asked us for your address yesterday."

"Oh." Credence takes a deep breath and inhales the sweet scent of beautiful blooms, incidentally using them to hide his bright red face and silly grin.

"I wonder what pink roses symbolise?" Tina muses out loud.

Queenie runs off to fetch a book. Less than two minutes later, she's back and reads out, "In the symbolism of flowers, words like admiration, sweetness, poetic romance, gentleness, grace, and joy are used to describe the meaning behind the pink rose. Pink roses are meant to convey happiness." She slams the book shut and squeals with delight. Tina is smiling.

"They're certainly conveying happiness to our Credence." Jacob says. "How about I go and find a vase? A very large one."

* * *

Credence is floating on a cloud, and he only rises higher when, despite having already given him free dance lessons, his friends give him several other gifts, not to mention the swing coat like blazer he loved so much when he was out shopping with Tina and Queenie the weekend before.

Tina, ever practical, gives him a gift card to download music. Newt gives him several books - gay romances, and rather explicit ones if the covers are anything to go by, Credence realises with a deep blush that makes Newt smirk. Jacob gives him a handmade gift card for 'extra time off work whenever needed for romantic purposes', which is so very Jacob, Credence can't stop grinning. Queenie gives him his own make up set in a pretty pouch, including mascara, eyeliner, and two shades of lip tint - one the soft coral red tint he already loves, one a light shade of magenta lip balm, and there's also an intense ruby red lipstick 'for when he feels brave'. He doesn't know when he's going to feel as brave as that, but he's overjoyed by all his gifts.

For breakfast, Queenie and Jacob make his favourite crazy combination: waffles with grilled banana, bacon and a side of raspberry jam. There's strong coffee, though Newt jokingly suggests that chamomile tea might be better suited to keeping Credence calm.

"I don't think anything's going to keep him calm this morning," Tina states, and Credence protests, but he can't stop looking at the enormous bouquet of roses on the sideboard and fidgeting with excitement; it didn't fit on the small kitchen table during breakfast, or there'd have been no room for plates or cups. Or anyone's head.

"When are you going to call him, Credence?" Queenie wants to know.

"Right after breakfast. I don't want to wake him up too early."

"If he's anything like you right now, he'll be pacing and clutching his phone, checking for a missed call every other minute," Jacob states, and Credence grins.

It's a nice thought.

* * *

He phones Percival around 9 a.m., before he's even showered and dressed, because he can't make himself wait any longer. He thinks he can make a case for it being a decent time.

At first, he's going to use the landline, but his friends are not so subtly hovering nearby so, in the end, he takes his mobile up to his room and closes the door, then sits cross-legged on the bed and taps in the number on the card with shaking fingers.

"Hello?"

"Percival? It's--"

"Credence!" Percival sounds overjoyed, making him smile. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you." Credence shivers pleasantly at the sound of Percival's voice over the phone. "And thank you so much for the roses. They're beautiful."

There is a smile in Percival's voice when he says, "I'm so glad you like them. The delicacy of their colour made me think of you."

Credence blushes, glad Percival can't see. He is faintly shocked when he hears himself blurt out, "I thought you might have picked them for their meanings."

Percival is laughing. Credence doesn't blame him. What a stupid thing to say.

"I did. I briefed the florist on what exactly I wanted to say, and pink roses fit perfectly. It's pure luck they're just as lovely and charming as you."

Credence's heart skips. "Oh."

Percival is quiet for a moment, then says softly, "Will you spend your afternoon and evening with me, Credence?"

"I would love to, yes." It sounds as if Percival breathes a sigh of relief, and Credence is amazed he should have had doubts.

"That's wonderful. Is three o'clock all right? Or two. How about two?"

"Two is perfect." Credence will happily take any extra hour he can get with Percival.

"Great. Wonderful. I'll be there to pick you up then."

Credence thinks he should probably say good bye now, but he doesn't want to be the one to break the connection, so he struggles to think of something else to say.

"I hope you've been having a wonderful day so far," Percival says, then laughs. "Sorry, how silly, it's only 9 a.m. There's hardly been any day yet."

Credence giggles. "I've had a wonderful day so far, thank you. I woke up from a very nice dream to the biggest, loveliest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen." He ponders out loud, "No one's ever given me flowers before."

"That's inexcusable." Percival's voice softens further. "You should be given flowers all the time."

"Why?" Credence can't help but ask.

"Because you should be surrounded by lovely, romantic things that make you happy."

Credence can't help but think of his hidden fashion magazines. He can't imagine Percival would include flowing dresses and elegant gowns in his list of lovely, romantic things.

"What was your very nice dream about?" Percival asks into his musings, and he blushes furiously, only then realising that he mentioned the dream quite accidentally.

"Oh, I... I don't really remember it all that well. I just know it was nice, and I felt happy about it." Credence is not lying, which he doesn't want to do, and he really doesn't remember all the details.

"You should try and remember all you can. Dreams the night before your birthday are meant to come true, you know."

"Really?" Credence blinks.

"So I've always been told, though I've never dreamed anything very special on my birthday." Percival is quiet for a few moments. "Perhaps this year will be different."

Credence smiles. "Perhaps."

"I don't suppose I put in an appearance in your dream?"

Credence chews his bottom lip. Then he says very softly, "Yes, you did."

Percival's breathing sounds suddenly closer then, as if he's whispering into the phone. "Was I in the supporting cast, or one of the lead actors?"

Credence huffs out a little laugh.

"I'm not embarrassing you, am I?" Percival asks, sounding amused.

"No. Not really, I..." Credence doesn't think it's fair that Percival can fluster him just as badly at a distance. He takes a deep breath. "You might have been one of the lead actors."

Percival hums into the phone, making Credence tingle all over. "I'm very happy to hear that."

It vaguely occurs to Credence that, by this point, his half-remembered dream might appear far more scandalous to Percival than it really was. He considers confessing that they were only dancing, but an impish part of him really _likes_ that Percival thinks there was much more to it, and that he seems very pleased about it.

"Are you all right, Credence?" Percival sounds concerned, and Credence realises he got lost in thought.

"Oh yes, sorry. I just... I think someone's calling me from downstairs." He wants to kick himself, because he knows he sounds as if he's trying to end the call, which is the last thing on his mind.

"In that case, I shouldn't hold you up. Enjoy your morning and your lunch. And, Credence..."

"Yes?" he breathes.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you later."

Credence smiles at his phone, feeling silly. "I look forward to seeing you too. Bye, Percival."

Once the call ends, Credence makes sure to add the number to his contacts and, in another fit of mischief, saves it under 'Prince Charming'.

* * *

Credence is completely dressed by 1:30 p.m. He's wearing the new lilac shirt with the frills at the collar, the new black trousers, the heart bracelet, and the birthday gift blazer. He's succeeded at applying his make up very professionally, according to Queenie's praise. He's also giving the magenta lip balm a try - it looks good with the shirt, and he loves it. He really has the best of friends, he thinks.

"I was going to give you foundation and blusher and everything," Queenie says, "But you have such perfect skin and bone structure, you don't need any of it, really."

Credence stares at her. "Thank you, Queenie."

"Hey, you're learning to take compliments without blushing!" When he laughs, Queenie grins at him in the mirror and keeps teasing his dark curls into artful disarray with a tiny amount of gel, but when she suggests he could use one of the roses for a buttonhole, he refuses determinedly.

"They're far too beautiful, and I want to keep them together."

"I can understand that." She assesses him with a critical eye. "You do look very pretty, you know."

Not for the first time, he wonders how Queenie almost seems to know little things about him that he keeps carefully private, like the fact that he'd rather be pretty than handsome. Not that he thinks he's either. He feels a little jolt of happiness at the thought that Percival seems to understand that about him too, and after knowing him for such a short time.

When he gets downstairs, Tina is kneeling on the kitchen bench and peering out the window, and a couple of minutes before 2, she calls out, "He's here." Then she whistles. "Looking extremely smart, too."

Credence's heart starts pounding. He wants to run outside, but he doesn't want to look ridiculous, so he waits for the knock on the front door.

"Go on." Newt and Jacob are sitting at the kitchen table, exchanging grins, when he takes a deep breath and goes to open the door.

Percival breaks into a breathtaking smile the moment he sees him. He's wearing dark grey trousers, a white shirt, and a long off-white coat - a breeze of wind exposes a sliver of pale blue lining with a pattern of silver diamonds. A pale blue tie to match, and a silver scarf fluttering casually over his lapels, complete the look.

"Hello, Credence. You look lovely."

"Thank you." Credence knows he sounds breathless. He just stares at Percival for a long moment before remembering his manners. "Hello. Would you like to come in?"

"Just for a moment. I brought something for your friends."

Only then does Credence notice the gift bag in his hand. "Okay." He steps aside, smiling to himself when Percival strokes from his right shoulder down his arm as he passes by him.

They walk into the kitchen, where Percival says hello to everyone, then passes the gift to Jacob, who's nearest to him. "I know this is a poor replacement for Credence's company, but I hope you'll like it with your dinner."

Tina smiles, no longer as hesitantly as she did the previous week. "Very thoughtful of you, Percival, thanks."

Jacob has unwrapped the bottle, and Newt peers at it. "I'm not that much of a wine connoisseur, but I think we'd better make sure to have something properly posh for dinner."

Percival laughs. "I just hope you'll enjoy it." He looks at Credence and tilts his head at him, "Shall we head off?"

"Yes, please."

"Have a great time," Queenie calls after them, and Credence waves to her on the way out the door.

* * *

Percival's car is a vintage convertible; Jacob would probably know the make at first glance, but Credence has no idea. It's dark blue with a lot of light brown leather inside. Credence says 'thank you' when Percival holds the passenger door open for him.

"Would you be more comfortable without your blazer?" he asks Credence.

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

Percival smiles and walks around to the driver's door, where he takes off and carefully folds his coat to place it on the back seat. Once he's behind the wheel, he turns to look at Credence for a long moment. "You really do look lovely."

"So you said." Credence is smiling.

"I did, didn't I?" Percival laughs. "That should tell you how beside myself I am. I feel honoured that you're willing to spend a good part of your day with me."

Credence ducks his head. "I'm glad you asked me to."

"You are?"

A single finger lifts Credence's chin, and he has to swallow before he can speak. "Yes." Then he gathers up all his courage. "You look very handsome today, Percival." The smile he gets in return makes him add, "Even more so than usually."

"Sweet boy." Percival's voice is a little rough. He releases Credence's chin, looks away, and clears his throat. "I think we'd best get going, before your friends come out and check whether I intend to just park here with you for the afternoon."

Credence laughs a little breathlessly. He can't say he's surprised when he spots four faces not so surreptitiously peering out from above the half lace of the kitchen window.

"Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to go, or shall I take the lead?" Percival gives him a little sideways smirk, once he's pulled out into the road.

"Please do," Credence says, smiling back. Then he leans back in the extremely comfortable seat. The open interior of the car smells like leather and sunshine, and Percival's aftershave drifts over to him faintly on the breeze.

"Why don't we drive across to Golden Gate Park while it's still fine? The weather might turn later, and then we'll be stuck in the car." Percival doesn't sound or look as if he's too worried about that.

Credence tips his head back. "There are definitely clouds." He doesn't really mind where they go or what they do. The company is what matters to him. "It's a very nice car to be stuck in, if it should come to that."

"Thanks." Percival laughs. "That's settled then. Let's enjoy the sun while it last, and then the inevitable rain when it comes."

"Sounds good." Credence smiles when Percival, on changing gears, let's his pinkie finger trail along the side of his knee.


	6. What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Chapter 6 Playlist** :  
> Barcarolle (from "Les Contes D'Hoffmann") - composed by Jacques Offenbach  
> Intermezzo (from "Cavalleria Rusticana") - composed by Pietro Mascagni  
> What the World Needs Now is Love - Rumer  
> Cherry Blossoms - Jia Peng Fang
> 
> _No dancing in this chapter either, but some very relaxed background music. And Offenbach's Barcarolle would make for posh carousel music._
> 
> Note: I know the carousel would not be in operation in March, but I've taken the liberty of opening it to bring them joy. :)

The drive to Golden Gate Park doesn't take very long, but traffic slows them down a little. Percival parks near the eastern end of the park, and they enter close to the round structure housing the carousel.

Credence smiles when he sees a glimpse of the very old, multi-coloured carousel animals through the open doors; he's never been on a carousel, and he supposes he's too old now to do anything but look at one.

"Want to go for a ride?" Percival asks him then, after studying his face for a moment.

Credence looks at him in surprise. "Yes, please."

"Great. I've always wanted to. Now I have an excellent excuse." They both laugh.

Percival pays for their rides at the nearby hot dog stand, and they wait inside the building until the current ride finishes.

"Choose your creature, Credence," Percival says, while the machinery is slowing down.

Credence only takes a moment to decide. "That dragon... seahorse? I don't know what it is."

"A hippocampus, maybe, but don't quote me." Percival looks thoughtful. "I'd better get on that worried looking donkey next to it." He steps up onto the platform, and holds out his hand to draw Credence up after him. "I can keep an eye on you to make sure your beast doesn't give you any trouble."

"Thank you." Credence giggles. "I'll feel much safer."

Percival looks pleased and hovers for a moment, as if to give him a push up onto his animal but, when it's clearly not needed, he mounts the donkey.

They're mostly surrounded by children when the ride begins, but there are a number of adults along for the ride too. Credence is smiling at Percival when it starts.

"My hippocampus isn't bouncing like your donkey." Credence frowns once he realises this. "I don't think any of the animals on the outside are."

"That's just horrible. Do you want to swap?" Percival offers.

Credence smiles. "No, it's okay. Probably best this way, since I'm prone to dizzy spells."

Percival raises a heavy brow. "Well, if you feel one coming on, be sure to tell me, so I can catch you."

Credence looks at him, almost wishing one did.

"You could always pretend," Percival offers, as if reading his mind and, somehow, his near whisper carries over the carousel music. His gaze is so focussed, Credence struggles not to do just that, but he doesn't want to create a spectacle on a busy carousel.

"I couldn't do that," he says teasingly.

"Pity." Percival gives him a dazzling smile, which Credence returns. "Having fun?"

"Oh yes."

"Good. I paid for a second ride," Percival tells him. "We'll try something different then."

Credence is delighted, and even more so when Percival, as soon as the carousel slows down, jumps off the donkey and holds up his arms towards him. He leans back and throws his right leg over the hippocampus' head, then lets himself slide off the animal and into Percival's arms.

Percival holds him close for a moment, looking deep into his eyes. "Let's try one of those mounts made for two," he murmurs.

Credence nods, his hands only slowly sliding off Percival's broad shoulders and down his arms.

The low encased bench mount right in front of them is already taken, and Percival leads Credence a few feet back to the empty swan boat, where he climbs in first.

They could sit on separate benches quite comfortably, Credence thinks. But Percival glances at the narrow space beside himself with a smile, shifts into the centre of the bench, and holds his hand out to him, and Credence takes it and let's himself be drawn down to sit on his lap. He is very glad Queenie didn't give him that blusher.

The carousel starts again, and Percival wraps his arm around Credence's waist. His free hand rests on his nearest knee. "Now you can get as dizzy as you like."

Credence, having no idea what to do with his hands, laughs breathlessly. "And I probably will." He folds them demurely on his lap and tries not to think about the firm strength of Percival's thighs beneath him.

Percival laughs. He tips his face up towards Credence, "Tell me, have you remembered anything more about your dream?"

"A little," Credence admits, deciding to come clean. "We were dancing together."

"I see. Well, we do that twice a week." Percival sounds amused, but also a little disappointed, which is pleasing.

"It was different," Credence blurts out.

"Different?" Now Percival sounds intrigued, and Credence meets his eyes. "Different how?"

"I was dancing really well."

"You _do_ dance really well," Percival insists.

Credence laughs. "I don't! Thank you for saying so, though."

Percival gives him a stern look. "Who's the expert here? If I say you dance well--"

"You're being very kind," Credence interrupts cheekily. Before Percival can disagree, he quickly elaborates on the dream. "I could smell flowers, and I was wearing..." He blushes. "I don't really know what it was. It... flowed."

Percival looks at him with such intensity then, Credence almost can't bear to keep holding his gaze. All thoughts of a playful argument about his dancing skills are forgotten.

"That's... fascinating." Percival's voice sounds odd, as if he wants to say more, something completely different maybe, but instead he just lets his eyes move over Credence's features. A single curl has fallen over his brow during the ride, and Percival reaches up to brush it back tenderly.

* * *

After the carousel, which has left Credence shaken for reasons unrelated to gravity and motion, they take a walk along Junior Drive, passing the Bowling Greens on their right. They linger for a bit at Shakespeare Garden and the Strybing Arboretum, where Credence gets rather enchanted by some shrubs which look as if colourful birds are sticking their long necks out of them.

"Those are Birds of Paradise," Percival says, and Credence smiles at him.

They walk around Stow Lake until they get to the Boathouse, where Percival hires them a paddle boat. He gallantly helps Credence into the nearest seat and climbs into the other one.

They try to steer clear of other people. Thankfully, it's March, so at least the tourist crowd is not yet overwhelming. They keep to the banks of the lake, where it's nice and shady.

Credence inhales deeply, pleased to be surrounded by trees and shrubs. He always feels better around green things, though today, Percival's company is all he needs to feel well.

"How long have you lived in San Francisco, Credence?" Percival directs them away from a low-hanging tree branch that would have caught in Credence's hair.

"Just about four months now."

"Do you feel like a local yet?"

Credence has to think about that. He doesn't quite know the answer. "I love it here, but I feel as if I'm still getting used to how different to New York City it is."

"What are you having trouble getting used to?" Percival quickly adds, "If you don't mind my asking."

Credence appreciates how Percival always gives him choices, but is happy to make decisions for him. "The people, mostly. Everyone seems less rushed, kinder, and mostly... freer. If that makes sense."

"It does." Percival stops paddling, and so does Credence, and they just drift for a bit. "You didn't have a good life there, did you?"

Credence looks at him a little shocked. "I... um..."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I... I think I want to." He takes a deep breath. "No, I wasn't very happy there. I lived in a foster home. I know nothing about my real parents, and my foster mother..." He pauses for a moment. "She didn't like me very much." That's quite an understatement, but he doesn't want to spoil the afternoon by talking about her beatings. He's not sure he's hiding the truth very well. He still can't stop flinching when he so much as thinks about her.

"Oh, Credence, I'm sorry." Percival's hand covers his on the sun warmed space between their seats.

Credence feels better at once. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." Percival's eyes are full of sympathy. "I had a feeling someone's treated you badly."

Credence gulps. "How could you tell?"

Percival's fingers are caressing his knuckles. "You're shy, cautious. Like someone who has had to watch his back to avoid being noticed. Someone who's lived in fear of punishment for everything he's done and thought, even for being himself."

Tears are stinging behind Credence's eyes, and his voice is thick when he says, "That's exactly how it was. I... I haven't even told my friends as much as that." He looks at Percival in disbelief. "How can you know?"

Percival lets go of his hand in order to wrap his arm around Credence's shoulder, and he doesn't speak again until Credence puts his head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"We're not so different, you and I. I grew up with a very strict father. He drank. Often. And he was very unpleasant when drunk. My mother was too afraid for herself to stand up to him for me. He wasn't very fond of me either, even when sober, and he didn't appreciate finding out that I'm gay."

Credence takes a shaky breath. He did not expect that. "I'm so sorry. How did you get to be so strong? I mean, how did you get through that without turning into someone like me?"

"Someone like you?" Percival asks, sounding distressed. "Credence, what do you mean? There's nothing wrong with you."

Credence wishes he hadn't said that, but he did. "But there is. I'm weak. I'm scared of everything. My foster mother doesn't even know where I went, and I still expect to see her every time I turn a street corner." He's mortified to admit all that, but he feels as if a tap has been turned on inside him. "I wish I was like you. So calm and cheerful, and so strong."

"Oh, Credence." Percival's voice cracks a little. "My trauma is further back in the past than yours; I've had several more years to try and move on. I had friends who helped me - you have those too, now. And if I'm a little tougher by nature, well... it also means I don't have your beautiful sensitivity. That's a strength, Credence, not a weakness."

"But you do!" Credence raises his head and protests. He has to, he can't let that stand. "You wouldn't understand me as you do, otherwise."

Percival looks into his eyes. "You're an angel, Credence. An angel I'm terribly fond of. How could I look at you and not see all the wonder and goodness, and all the pain, inside you?"

Credence suppresses a sob. He can't believe anyone - let alone this wonderful, handsome man - feels that way about him, but the sincerity in the brown eyes makes it impossible to doubt the words.

"You might be surprised how hard being cheerful is for me, sometimes," Percival tells him. "Years of loneliness have shown me that acting cheerful can sometimes even make you believe you truly are."

"But... how can you be lonely?" Credence asks. "There must be so many men..." He doesn't know how to continue, doesn't want to say something as stupid as, 'who fall madly in love with you'.

Percival laughs without humour. "There are a lot of men in this world, Credence, but what's the use of numbers, when none of them are right for you? It took me a while, but I did learn that settling for less than what you truly want will never make you happy." He holds Credence's eyes and says wistfully, "I'm not so tough that I haven't held onto the romantic hope that, one day, someone would walk into my life who makes me feel as if heaven has opened up for me." With this, he lifts his left hand and traces Credence's cheekbone tenderly.

Credence just stares at him. His eyes are stinging, and he feels so many things at once, he doesn't know if he can contain them all, or if he could even name them. He thinks that, if he should try to speak, everything would come out not in words, but in a rush of tears.

Percival says softly, "I've made you sad, and have probably overwhelmed you, and on your birthday no less. Please forgive me."

Credence shakes his head. "No." He tries for a smile. "It's so good to know someone understands." He adds, because it's important, "That _you_ understand."

Percival's gaze is tender. "There is nothing you can't talk to me about, Credence. Do you hear? Nothing." When Credence nods to show he understands, he says, "Your friends will understand too, when you decide to tell them. You're very dear to them, it's obvious. And they're good people. They, too, will help you to heal."

"Yes." Credence smiles. "Yes, you're right."

Percival plucks a handkerchief out of his pocket. He gently moves it over the skin under Credence's right eye.

Credence only then remembers he's wearing make up. "Am I... smudged?" He laughs a little, feeling embarrassed.

"No, Credence, you're perfect." He leans close and presses his lips to Credence's cheek, smiling when this earns him a little gasp. "I think it's all quite waterproof. There was just a little tear." He folds the handkerchief and pockets it again. "And I'm going to keep it." Holding Credence's soft, misty eyes, he suggests, "Let's return this boat, and I'll take you for a relaxing walk around the Japanese Tea Garden, before we head back to the car."

"Sounds nice," Credence breathes.

* * *

They're sipping jasmine tea under a cherry blossom tree.

"It's so beautiful here." Credence watches people rush by, merely glancing at the gardens but taking photos; hardly anyone takes the time to linger with tea.

"It is." Percival is looking at him. They're sitting side by side on a bench, turned towards each other. "I haven't given you your birthday gift yet. Which is a shame, as it would look lovely on you, fluttering in the breeze here."

Credence stares at him wide-eyed. He can't even imagine what Percival might give him that would flutter in the breeze. "But... the roses. And all this... all of today. You've given me so much."

Percival's eyes soften, and he murmurs, "Oh, sweet angel, you've given me so much more."

Heat rushes to Credence's cheeks, but their talk in the boat made him decide to be braver, and he doesn't avert his eyes.

"You've given me more smiles and laughter than any other time I've seen you. You've let me see your happiness _and_ your sadness." Percival lifts his left forearm off the back of the bench, and his fingers play with a loose dark curl near Credence's ear, eliciting a soft sigh when the tip of his index finger brushes the outer shell.

"You deserve so many things, Credence. Good things."

Credence doesn't dare to speak, afraid of breaking the enchantment they are under if he does anything more than gaze into Percival's eyes. Spring is like a sweet, but light, perfume in the air, freshened by the promise of coming rain. He hears the soft tinkling of wind chimes hung in a nearby tree.

Gusts of wind have been plucking cherry blossoms from the branches above. When one flutters down onto Credence's shoulder, Percival sets down his cup beside himself. He reaches for it, removes his tie pin, and attaches the blossom by its stalk to Credence's lapel.

Credence smiles down at the delicate silver pin holding the flower in place. "Queenie suggested I wear one of your roses, but I didn't want to break up the bouquet."

Percival answers his smile and picks up his tea cup.

They finish sipping in a comfortable silence, and when they start back for the car, Credence feels Percival's hand take hold of his. He doesn't turn his head, but he returns the warm pressure and smiles softly to himself, even while his heart is thundering in his chest.

Back at the car, Percival takes off Credence's jacket and places it in on the back seat with his coat. He opens the trunk and takes out a couple of things, which he places on the back seat as well - a cream-coloured box with a bow, and an upright, rectangular wicker basket.

Credence looks at him curiously, but Percival, while opening the door for him, only gives him a mysterious smile and says, in a dramatically hushed voice, "Secrets."

Credence laughs. He feels so light now, so... unburdened. He thinks Percival has given him a very rare kind of birthday gift, by actually taking something from him - a dark, oppressive weight that had been crushing his heart for far too long.

Once the roof is up - the sky is getting steadily darker - and they are both settled in, Percival says, "If that rain holds off a little longer, we should just be able to catch the sunset by the Golden Gate Bridge." He starts the engine.

"Oh, yes please. I've wanted to see that," Credence enthuses.

"You haven't yet?" Percival looks shocked, and Credence shakes his head. "Well, it's time to correct that." He pulls out onto the road, easily merging into the existing traffic.

Credence says, softly, "Maybe I was waiting for just the right day, and just the right company."

Percival's smile is warm and very pleased when he glances at him.


	7. Jiving in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter 7 Playlist** :  
> Walking in the Rain - Alex Swings, Oscar Sings!  
> Rain on Car Roof (ambience/soundscape)
> 
>  
> 
> _One dance, one song in this chapter. I really urge you to listen to this song - and you'll know when - because it sets their state of mind and mood exactly. After that, it's just rain. I suggest on repeat._
> 
>  
> 
> Note: To those of you who have been hoping for Percival's self control to finally slip a little - you're about to get your wish. ;)

 

They reach Baker Beach on the verge of sunset. There are only a handful of people around, because rain is imminent, and finding a convenient spot in the car park above the beach is easy.

Percival opens the passenger door and, when Credence gets out and immediately shivers, he asks, "Cold?"

"A bit," Credence admits.

"Would you rather we stay in the car?" When Credence shakes his head, Percival kneels on the passenger seat and reaches for his long white coat on the back seat. "This is pretty warm, probably warmer than your blazer," he says, and holds it open.

Credence smiles at him and slips his arms into the sleeves. He takes a deep breath when Percival wraps the coat - which smells of him - around him from behind and, for a moment, he's enclosed in his arms. Then he's being slowly turned around and the collar is flipped up.

Percival pulls the lapels tightly closed and looks deep into his eyes. He raises his right hand and cups Credence's cheek gently. "Your face is cold," he whispers.

"I'm okay in your coat," Credence reassures him. 'And in your arms,' he thinks.

The wind is a lot stronger here by the waterfront, and Credence feels his curls dancing madly around his face - an outward echo of the wild dance his heart is doing. Percival is so close, his face mere inches away, and the breeze is carrying more of his aftershave - the warm, balsamic scent that makes Credence sway.

"I can't remember why we came here." Percival's voice is husky.

Credence bites his lower lip. "Sunset."

"Oh yes." Percival laughs softly. "And we're about to miss it." He reluctantly lets go of Credence to reach past him and slam the car door shut, but then he takes his hand again, and Credence follows him down the sand ladder to the beach. When he slips a little, Percival grips his hand tighter.

Credence comes to a stop at the bottom of the ladder and only then looks up, with his mouth open. "Oh."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Percival lets go of his hand in order to wrap his arm around his shoulder and pull Credence against his side.

"Yes," Credence breathes. He watches the sunset for a few moments, but then turns his head to look at the play of warm light over Percival's face - the muted reds caressing his suntanned skin, softening his features, and making his eyes shine.

When Percival notices that he's watching him, he turns his head and meets his eyes, and his gaze is so gentle. "Credence..." he whispers.

It gets noticeably darker the same moment the rain starts. Isolated drops begin to splash down on their heads.

"Damn," Percival says, with feeling, and Credence just laughs. "Let's run back!"

"Okay."

They sprint up the steep ladder, Percival pulling Credence along by his hand, and with his arm around his waist for the extra long steps. When they reach the car, he says, "Wait here."

Credence, though confused, nods, and he watches Percival reach into the car for a floppy rain hat and umbrella. He's giggling helplessly when the hat is pushed down on his curls. Percival opens the umbrella over them both, and hands it to Credence, drawing him close to the car. He gets in just long enough to grab a plaid picnic blanket from the back seat and turn on the stereo to search out a song.

"Jive with me?" he asks, when he stands in front of Credence again. He throws the blanket over his own shoulders; it's not very long, reaching mid-thigh, and won't keep him dry for long.

"Now? Here?" Credence is smiling like an idiot, he knows. But when the ridiculously cute, bouncy tune about walking in the rain starts, he exclaims, "Yes!" He intertwines his fingers with Percival's on the raised umbrella handle, and holds the blanket in place on Percival's shoulder, while Percival's hand moves around his waist inside the open coat.

And they start to jive in the car park, in the rain - which is by now slowly swallowing up the view of Golden Gate Bridge.

They don't notice. They also don't notice the few people still around and running like mad from the sudden shower, some of them staring and chuckling at them in passing. Soon, they're quite alone.

Keeping to the simplest steps so they can hold the umbrella upright, they dance and laugh like carefree children, and Credence has never felt happier in his entire life. He wonders if there will ever be a moment to top this one, and he's not kept in suspense for long.

Percival is looking at him with a whole new intensity, his steps slowing down a little and, very soon, they're standing still while the song goes on. The hand on Credence's waist slides further around to his back, where it presses hotly against his skin through the thin shirt. Percival's eyes caress his mouth as he draws him even closer, and he whispers his name reverently. And, with a growl of need, his lips are on Credence's.

Credence whimpers into the wet heat, fingers slipping from the umbrella handle and twisting in the blanket over Percival's chest. He barely hears the umbrella hit the ground, a moment before Percival's right hand cups the back of his head in the funny hat and pulls him in tight. He holds onto Percival where he can, feeling his skin hot even through both wool and cotton. His mouth is open against Percival's, and he can taste his breath, the memory of jasmine tea, and rain.

Their hearts are pounding against each other, and Credence fears his will give out when Percival's tongue finds his. The wet rasp of it in his mouth, searching and stroking every surface it can reach, makes him tingle all over. He can't stop the desperate moans escaping him with each gasping breath they drink down between wet kisses. Percival's hand slides over his back under the coat like a hot brand, ending up between his shoulder blades. The other lets go of Credence's head, burrowing under the coat too, and to the small of his back, pressing him so close, it makes Credence's knees buckle.

He has no idea how much time has passed before awareness of the pouring rain intrudes, and it only does when his fingers move up into Percival's dripping wet hair. He has no hat, the umbrella is gone - God knows where, and much of his shirt is so wet, it's clinging to his chest. The rest of him is only dry where the now heavy and slipping blanket has covered him, or where he's been pressed against Credence.

"You'll get pneumonia," Credence gasps against his mouth, which instantly covers his once more for another taste of him.

Eventually, Percival murmurs, "It would be worth it." But he pulls Credence to the car, gets him to climb out of the coat straight into the passenger seat, and hurries around to the driver's side with the coat over his arms. There, he throws it into the back and hurriedly unbuttons and removes his shirt.

Credence is blushing like mad when Percival reaches back into the car for the coat - it's still warm and dry on the inside, after all - and smirks at him. He watches him slip into it and then climb into the car, before he pulls the door shut behind himself and turns the stereo off. Now there's no sound except for the rain pounding the roof of the car and their breathing.

Percival removes his tie, and rubs over his wet hair with the now quite ineffective blanket before tossing it behind his seat, unaware his hair looks rather wild now.

Credence laughs, but it becomes a dry, husky croak when Percival turns to him with a brilliant smile.

"Hello." His voice is low, languorous.

"Hi," Credence breathes. He tries hard not to stare at Percival's naked torso under the open coat he himself was wearing only moments before, the tanned skin and damp chest hair an enticing contrast to the off-white fabric.

Then Percival reaches over and cups his cheek, thumb sliding across the seam of his lips. "Come here, you."

And Credence does, leaning across until their mouths are close enough for him to feel Percival's breath on his lips. Fingers slide into his hair, pushing the floppy hat off his head to land on the floor in front of the seat.

"God, Credence...."

This kiss is less desperate, and more tender, than the first. Percival's lips are playing with his now - pressing in different spots, with different pressures, nipping at one lip at a time, placing miniature kisses in the corners of his mouth... until Credence is breathing hard, needs to taste more, needs to have that relentless tongue in his mouth again to anchor him.

"Perci... Percival," he sighs.

"Call me Percy, if you like." Percival kisses his chin, fingers spread on his cheek. "Or Donald Duck, if it makes you happy."

Credence giggles. "I prefer Percy."

"Good." Percy's laugh tickles the sensitive skin of Credence's bruised lips. "How are you so sweet, angel? You even taste sweet."

"Jasmine tea?" Credence offers. He feels excited, amused... giddy. He thinks he might burst.

"Mmm, no, it's all you, I'm sure." Percy's hand is on his nape, squeezing gently, as if he's a kitten.

Credence is very tempted to purr. "That's nice," he whispers.

"This?" Percy squeezes again.

"Yes." He sighs. "You're so gentle with me."

"I could never be anything else with you." Percy's lips brush his cheek tenderly. "Which is not to say I'm not sorely tempted to ravish you at the first opportunity."

Credence whimpers softly. He thinks now might be such an opportunity, but he doesn't say so. He's not exactly sure what being ravished entails, though he can't imagine it's anything he wouldn't want from Percy. "You are?" he asks instead.

"Yes, darling, but I'm going to take my time with you. I want to unfold you like one of your pretty pink roses." Percy's mouth is playing with Credence's earlobe, making him shiver violently. "Petal by petal."

Credence's hands are shaking, clutching at the open coat, and his knuckles brush against Percy's bare chest. He inhales sharply.

"It's okay to touch," Percy coaxes, making a soft, deep sound when Credence places his palm flat against the centre of his chest. Then his hand covers Credence's, as warm as the skin under it, and Credence can feel his strong, but rather fast, heart beat.

Credence caresses the soft hair curling against his fingers and feels the skin shiver under his fingertips. "Are you warm enough?"

Percy moves his cheek against Credence's. "With you, how could I be cold?"

Credence breathes shakily. "You got so wet outside."

"Mmm. Are _you_ cold?"

"No. I'm just worried about you."

Percy moves back just far enough to look into Credence's eyes, but he keeps the slim hand pressed against his chest. "My sweet, beautiful angel is caring too." He smiles at Credence. "I'll turn on the engine for a few minutes and run the heater. Will that make you feel better?"

Nodding, Credence waits for the warm air to envelop them. The engine is a soothing rumble he can easily ignore. The rain and his own heart sound louder to him.

"I don't think I can take you to dinner without changing first," Percy wonders idly.

"That's... it's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Oh no," Percy says. "None of that. Besides, you must be by now." He considers. "Well, we have options. We can go to my place, which isn't that far away, and I'll change." He smirks. "I promise to behave."

Credence's heart jumps a little with excitement at the idea of being taken to Percy's home. And of Percy maybe breaking that promise. He smiles. "Okay."

"Or... we could forget about the reservation I made and have dinner right here."

"Right here?" Credence's eyes widen.

"Hmm. I brought a few things in a chiller, in case we should decide to have a picnic. That was before I figured the weather would turn, but it really doesn't matter." He looks thoughtful. "The food will still be fine. Did your clothes get wet at all?"

"No. And a car picnic in the rain sounds wonderful." It really does, and Credence is grinning. "What about you though?"

"I'll be fine, and dry in no time. I'd love to have dinner with you right here." Percy's smile decides him. 

"Okay, let's do that."

"Right. Let me just..." Percy reaches back for the upright basket and pulls it into the centre of the backseat. He extracts two paper plates, but proper glasses, and hands them to Credence one by one. Then he sets down a votive candle in a lidded holder, along with a box of matches, in the small centre compartment between them. Lastly, he extract the small cooler and opens it to reveal not only food, but a bottle of champagne.

Credence stares at Percy. "We're going to have candlelight? And champagne?"

"What kind of romantic birthday dinner would this be if we didn't?" Percy smiles at the obvious delight in Credence's eyes. "And it's high time I gave you your present, too."

Credence looks at him. "You already did."

"The roses?" Percy teases. It's clear he knows exactly what Credence is talking about.

"No, I don't mean the roses." Credence smiles, touching his kiss swollen lips briefly.

"You do know," Percy murmurs, his own fingertips taking up the caressing of Credence's bottom lip, "that you have the most beautiful smile in the world?"

Credence's face is instantly suffused with heat. He wants to deny it, but he can't really speak with Percy's finger right there.

"Blush all you like." Percy's lips twitch. "It won't change anything." He leans in again and sighs. "And I can't seem to stop kissing your tempting mouth, now that I've started." His hand shifts to hold Credence's chin.

Credence grasps at the opportunity to speak. "I don't mind at all."

Percy's soft groan is lost in Credence's mouth and, for a few minutes, gifts and dinner are once again forgotten.

"At this rate," Percy struggles to say, once he manages to pull away, "your birthday will be over before we eat." He sits back with an effort and reaches for the cream-coloured gift box on the back seat. "And before I give you this. Happy birthday, angel."

Credence, dazed once again, takes the box with trembling fingers. "Thank you." He sees the name printed on the box - Antorini, Italy - and gasps. "But... Percy, this is--"

"Never mind who made it, do you like it?" Percy is smiling.

Credence looks at him, then undoes the cream bow and opens the box, chewing his lip when he shifts aside the tissue paper. He gasps at the sight of the beautiful scarf, with its swirls of intertwining shades of pink, purple, coral and cream. It feels so soft under his fingertips, as if he's touching a cloud. "Percy... it's so lovely."

"Not half as lovely as you."

Credence looks at him, and there are tears in his eyes.

"Oh, darling, don't cry." Percy takes his hands where he's holding them over the scarf as if not daring to really touch.

"I'm sorry for being silly. It's beautiful, Percy." Credence is sniffing. "No one has ever given me something so beautiful and delicate." He gathers up his courage. "I've always wanted... I thought it was wrong to want it." He doesn't know if he's making any sense at all.

Percy somehow seems to understand. "You're not being silly. I took a chance based on your pretty make up, and on how beautifully you carry off lush colours. I wasn't sure you'd like this, but I thought that, if you did..." He gave a hopeful smile. "You might like it very much."

"Oh, I do!" Credence is beaming. "I can't believe you guessed..." He's blushing again, but forging onward. "I think about wearing soft, pretty things like this. Things women wear. I don't know if I'd ever dare to wear a dress or... anything, but--"

Percy puts him out of his misery. "The scarf can be a start, and you can see if you like it." Percy is smiling softly. "Find out if it makes you feel as good as you hope." He lifts the scarf from the box carefully and holds it up against Credence's cheek.

Credence gasps. He wouldn't need to know that this is made by one of the finest designers of scarves, or to look at the label, to know this is pure silk of the highest quality. He's touched silk a couple of times, surreptitiously, in a store, and he knows. Nothing else except a caress feels like silk. And Percy is caressing his face with silk. It's heavenly. He closes his eyes blissfully, and the scarf is moved down to his neck, a gentle slide below his chin, like a breath across his Adam's apple, the silk now winding softly around his long neck.

When he opens his eyes, Percy is looking at him so tenderly, he almost tears up again. He smiles instead. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

"You're very welcome, sweetheart." There's a slight crack in the deep voice, and Credence takes one of Percy's hands off the scarf and nuzzles his cheek into it, and then Percy is smiling too.

"Shall we put this out of harm's way and try for dinner again?" Percy suggests.

Credence nods and carefully refolds the precious scarf, then places it in the box on the back seat once more, while Percy shifts the now open candle jar to the dashboard tray and lights it. The warm browns of the car's interior acquire a soft glow, and he turns off the engine after opening the window a hair's width; it's certainly hot enough by now that his damp trouser legs are no problem at all.

"Food first, I think, then the champagne?" Percy suggests.

Credence agrees. He's feeling giddy enough as it is.

Percy places a meatloaf sandwich on his plate and scoops some potato salad from a small tub beside it.

"Did you make all this?" Credence asks.

"I didn't bake the bread, but apart from that, yes. Please don't be too harsh if you hate it."

Credence laughs. He tries some of the potato salad and his eyes widen. Percy is watching him closely, so he takes a bite of the sandwich next. When he's done chewing and swallowing it, he says, "This is very tasty, all of it!"

"Bless you for that."

"I mean it," he emphasises.

"I know you do." Percy is smiling. "I doubt you're capable of lying."

"I'd need a very good reason."

"Like not offending me?" Percy laughs when Credence looks horrified.

"No, no!"

"Shh, I'm just teasing you."

A quick kiss is placed on his mayonnaise-stained lips, and Credence is pacified at once. 

After the salad and sandwiches, Percy opens the champagne bottle, briefly lowering the window further to aim it that way, just in case. All that happens is that he gets a face full of rain, and he laughs and raises the window again. Then he fills their glasses, while Credence holds them.

"Happy birthday, Credence. Thank you for coming into my life." He pauses, and his voice turns soft and beseeching, "Please... please, stay."

Credence's heart skips joyously. "I will. I want to." He raises his glass to touch it to Percy's. "Thank you for giving me the best birthday I've ever had." He sounds choked, and quickly takes a few sips.

"I would give you the sun and the moon, if I could," Percy says so quietly, Credence can't be sure he even heard him right, but he smiles. Percy reaches for the hand in Credence's lap, the one not holding the champagne glass. He raises it to his lips and kisses it between sips.

Credence watches him as he examines it, as if it was a precious work of art.

"I completely forgot about the strawberries still in the basket," Percy muses.

Credence carefully sets down his glass between them and reaches for the small covered bowl. "Here they are." He puts the bowl on top of the compartment between the front seats. "Would you like one?"

Percy meets his eyes. "Please."

Credence finds the reddest strawberry and holds it to Percy's lips hesitantly.

Percy gently sucks it into his mouth and chews it, then let's go of Credence's hand to reach for one himself. He dips it into his champagne, then shakes it against the inside rim of his glass, before holding it against Credence's lips.

Credence opens his mouth, and moans softly at the mingled sweetness of the fruit and the sharp brightness of the champagne.

"Christ," Percy mutters, staring at him. He blindly reaches for another fruit, finding the biggest one, and dips it in his glass. The he takes it between his teeth and leans forward.

Credence meets him halfway, catching a little juice on the tip of his tongue as it trickles from the corner of Percy's mouth - he doesn't want it dripping on the nice white coat - before closing his teeth over the exposed part of the fruit. They both nibble it gently until it is gone, and there is only the sweet sparkly juice left in both their mouths.

Percy groans around the taste, and around Credence's sneaky tongue trying to steal more of the taste from his mouth. He briefly interrupts the kiss to find a place for his glass, and then his hands move around the slim waist, pulling him as close as he can over the division between seats.

Credence lets out a muffled grunt as the compartment between them digs into his tummy.

"I'm sorry, angel." Percy's eyes are dark. Wild. "I need you closer. I need you in my arms," he urges, making something swoop low in Credence's stomach. "Do you want to get wet for a moment, or do you want to try climbing across to the back?"

Credence is panting. "Get wet," he says. It sounds the faster option, and their legs are far too long for the climbing to work.

"Okay, on three," Percy says. "One... two... three!"

The both throw their doors open into the pouring rain, and have climbed in the back doors before the front ones fully snap shut. Even in that moment, they got drenched, and laugh at themselves. But then Percy pulls Credence forward, one hand around the back of his right thigh, and pulls him across to sit on his lap and face him, knees on either side of him.

Credence moans softly, the sound cut off by Percy's mouth back on his, hot hands roaming up and down his sides and back, as if unable to pick a spot to stay put. He remembers the scarf, picks up the box and quickly puts it up under the back window, and then his fingers are in Percy's hair, sliding through the damp strands.

Percy is grasping at his back, trying to pull his shirt from his waistband with one hand, but getting nowhere because he can't make the other one let go of the soft swell of Credence's arse. "Darling, we shouldn't... _I_ shouldn't..."

"Something, just... something!" Credence moans helplessly when he feels Percy hard against him, and he gasps for breath.

Percy's lips are on his throat, arching as it is, raining hot kisses up the smooth length of it.

Credence gives up on trying to keep hold of Percy's wet hair, and pushes his hands over his bare chest inside the open coat.

"Baby, yes," Percy encourages, and Credence shivers, fingers roaming through dark curls, palms brushing almost carelessly over hardening nipples, as he pushes the coat back and off Percy's broad shoulders. He shrugs out of the sleeves, leaving the coat bunched behind his back, and his strong arms close around Credence's waist as he pulls him in, rocking up against him at the same time.

"Oh! Percy... oh God!" Credence feels himself dripping, no... leaking inside his clothes, can't stop it, doesn't really care to. He snaps his hips down against the pressure, and they start a rhythm that's taking them to the edge too soon, but there's no stopping now.

Percy finally manages to slide a hand up under Credence's shirt, the other still on his arse to hold him tightly against himself as Credence whines, head thrown back, shuddering and spending himself in his briefs.

"So beautiful, angel," Percy growls. "So fucking beautiful!" And he pushes up one last time against the dampness now all over his lap, and groans as he comes.

Credence moves his right hand down quickly, pressing it between them, wanting to feel the wet throbbing through the fine wool trousers, not realising the gesture makes Percy see stars.

"Credence, fuck, what are you doing to me?" Percy's voice cracks, and he holds Credence tight, reaching up to cup the back of his head as soon as the boy is leaning forward far enough, and just keeps him still and close, and the wet warmth between them, while they calm down.

Credence's heart is a spinning, frantic dervish, only very gradually slowing to a healthier pace. His head is resting in the crook of Percy's neck, and he's inhaling his scent - more intense on his heated skin - and he wants to stay right there forever, just let day and night take turns, people can walk past the car and go about their business, seasons can come and go.

"Baby," Percy's voice is rough and yet soft. "God, you feel so good. I didn't mean to do more than kiss you tonight. Forgive me?"

"Forgive?" Credence can't even work out the meaning of the word in the context. "That was wonderful, Percy, so good... I've never..."

"Never? Not even on your own?" Percy asks.

"Yes, but... it's not the same." Credence is past feeling ashamed to admit to having pleasured himself; it's not as if it was much of a pleasure, it was just necessary sometimes.

"It sure isn't," Percy agrees, hands roaming his back as if to comfort him. "Nothing compares to being with you, darling."

"Percy." Credence is smiling against his neck, pursing his lips for a light kiss to damp skin.

"You sweet, sweet thing."

Credence sighs happily, snuggling into the strong arms around him. "Can we stay like this?" he murmurs.

A soft chuckle. "We might have to. The moment we detach from each other, we'll realise how uncomfortably sticky we are."

"Not much we can do then."

Percy's hands are stroking up and down his back. "You know, I meant to return you home as immaculate as you were when I picked you up." He smiles when Credence giggles against the side of his neck.

"Being wet and sticky is more fun."

Groaning, Percy stops moving his hands. "Don't say things like that, or you might end up in an even worse state."

Credence shivers. "That's not much of a threat," he says boldly, surprising them both.

Percy cups his face and lifts it enough to look into his eyes, as glassy as his own. He swallows. "I'm crazy about you, angel, you know that, don't you?" When Credence just blushes, he adds, "I'm trying very hard to remind myself that the only proper way to treat you is to get into that driver's seat and take you home like the good boy you are." He laughs a little. "Help me out here."

Credence's smile is slow and widens gradually, but he doesn't speak.

"I can't hear you." Percy's voice is a little desperate.

Now Credence laughs, and Percy joins in.

The rain gets noticeably more quiet, and they glance out the side windows. Or try to.

"We've fogged up the whole car," Percy states. "I can't see a thing." He meets Credence's eyes. "Except you. And I already can't think about anything but you."

Credence returns his gaze seriously. "I haven't been able to think about anything but you since that first lesson."

"Same here, angel." Percy strokes his right hand up and down the centre of Credence's chest. "I can hardly believe you're real."

Credence sighs. "I wasn't, until you."

Percy's eyes are almost desperate when he looks into Credence's, and it's clear how much he's struggling. "Come home with me," he pleads at last. "It's still early. And I don't want this evening to end yet, just because we're a soggy mess." They both laugh huskily at that. "I want you to get dry and warm, and I want to hold you for an hour. Or two. Or three."

Credence swallows hard. He nods.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do, I promise."

"What if there are things I want you to do?" Credence asks in a voice that's bolder than he feels.

Percy makes a sound between a whimper and a moan. "Then I will do them until you beg me to stop," he says roughly.

Credence is trembling, getting hard again already. "Can we go now?"

"We definitely can."


	8. Shangri-La

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter 8 Playlist** :  
> Shangri-La - Vic Damone  
> Shangri-La - Jackie Gleason  
> East of the Sun (West of the Moon) - Paul Weston and His Orchestra  
> Pearls of Ceylon - Les Baxter  
> Rain and Fireplace - Nutolina (ambience)
> 
>  
> 
> _The music starts when Percy says, "Dance with me," appropriately enough. :)_
> 
>  
> 
> Note: Well, this is by far the longest chapter yet, because Percy is insatiable. Also, the rating is now quite appropriate. Please forgive me _if_ the next chapter ends up a day or so late, as I might not have computer access near the end of the week.

Percy's home is in The Marina District, to the East of the Golden Gate Bridge. It's not a long drive at all, and Credence looks around at the houses with great curiosity. He especially loves the Spanish style architecture when they turn into Lorca Crescent, and just stares when Percy pulls up in front of the garage of a beautiful two-storey house, in typical Spanish colours, with a bright red roof.

"You live here?" he asks, awed.

Percy uses the garage opener, and gives him a smile while the door goes up. "Only the top floor is mine. The lower floor is a separate condo, but the owners are hardly ever here. They tend to spend all their time on cruises."

"It's beautiful." Credence starts to open the car door.

"No, don't. There's no need to get even wetter. We'll go upstairs from inside the garage."

"Okay."

The garage has plenty of room for two sizable cars, and there's a white Mercedes already parked there; Credence assumes it belongs to Percy's neighbours. 

Credence follows Percy through a door into a stairway. He leaves his scarf behind in the car for later, and his blazer too.

Percy is carrying the wicker basket up the stairs and, on the top landing, unlocks his front door and reaches in for a light switch and to turn off the alarm. "Welcome to my humble abode, darling." He waves Credence inside with a flourish.

Credence smiles at him as he passes through the door. Then he looks around and his eyes pop. "This is lovely."

Percy looks very pleased. "I'm glad you like it. I try and make it as comfy as possible." He looks at Credence taking in everything, but hesitating to walk further in. "Go on, look around. Don't be shy. Make yourself at home." When Credence smiles softly, he kisses his cheek and gives him a little nudge forward.

The first thing Credence takes in is the large double-sided fireplace, behind which he sees a dining table and chairs. On the living room side, there's a large bookshelf along the wall opposite the fireplace - and it's crammed full of books, both old and new. There are sideboards of dark wood with all kinds of interesting looking ornaments on top which look as if they've been collected by a world traveller.

All the furniture looks luxurious: there's an L-shaped sofa and armchairs - all upholstered in plush jewel-toned fabrics, and there's a large wicker peacock chair between the bookshelf and the bay window, with a floor lamp next to it. On the other side of the shelf is an old-fashioned roll-top desk with a computer on it, but also notepads and fountain pens. In the centre of the ceiling hangs a tropical ceiling fan with wide blades. The coffee table - made of highly ornamental dark wood, looks as if it came out of a fancy Eastern imports store. Most of the furniture and décor has an international flavour, including the plentiful thick, lush rugs.

The way antique and stylish is mixed with modern and practical really appeals to Credence. It's very easy to feel at home here straight away. So very easy.

He glances at Percy, who's clearly waiting to hear what he thinks, and smiles. "I love everything. You have great taste."

Percy comes close to him, nuzzling the side of his face and kissing his nose, before giving him a heated look. "I know I do." Credence ducks his head self-consciously, and Percy adds, "Thank you, darling. I was a little nervous about showing you my pad."

"But why? It's perfect."

"Because I really want you to love it here." Percy's eyes move over his face.

"I really, really do." Credence adds a reassuring nod, and Percy seems to finally relax about it.

So Credence smiles and strolls across the room to the huge bay window, gasping when he realises he can see some of the lights on the Golden Gate Bridge, even through the wet glass. The rain has lessened considerably, but it's still falling lightly and steadily. "Oh, Percy!"

Percy, who's dropped off the basket in the kitchen, is by his side in a few moments. "Do you like the view?" he asks.

"I don't think it could possibly be any better," Credence insists.

Percy turns him by his shoulder. He's smiling at him. "Would you like to have a shower? Warm up and get comfortable?"

Credence nods. "Please. I do feel..." He screws his face up, which makes Percy laugh.

"So do I. Luckily, there are two bathrooms."

The way he says the last bit, with a put-upon sigh and a pout, makes Credence giggle.

Percy takes his hand. "Come with me."

They walk closely past the fireplace, where Credence slows down. It's modern, with the logs stacked up behind thick glass doors, but the surround is carved wood with copper metal ornamentation above it, all the way up to where the flue disappears into the ceiling. His eyes move back down, to the thick red rug in front of the fireplace, and he gazes at it longingly.

Percy watches him closely; it's clear a fireplace is a kind of luxury Credence has never known. "I'll light a fire while you're in the shower. And I'll make us something hot to drink, too." Credence looks pleased, and Percy leads him into a large bedroom with an over-sized bed, covered with smooth royal blue, plum and purple pillows and sheets. When Credence looks at the bed and blushes, Percy quickly says, "I'll be using the guest bathroom. I want you to use the en-suite, because it's nicer."

Credence smiles at him. "Thank you."

Percy turns on the light in the en-suite. The shell-shaped fixture above the mirror lights up the tiles - in various shades of blues - with a warm glow.

"Plenty of towels right here." Percy points to a tall wicker shelf stacked with cream coloured towels. "And there's a fresh bathrobe on the top shelf. Now, use whatever you want, and take your time. Leave your clothes on that stool. I'll shower and get the living room nice and warm." When Credence nods, he asks, "Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?"

Credence beams at him. "Hot chocolate, please."

"Done." Percy presses a quick kiss to his lips, smiles, and shuts the door behind himself.

Credence looks around, then opens the wide shower door. He's never seen such a roomy and luxurious bathroom. The sunken spa bath is especially appealing, but he has no intention of whiling away the rest of the evening in there while Percy waits for him in the living room. He quickly strips off and steps into the shower.

* * *

When Credence - clean and fresh and smelling of the spicy fragrant soap he used - walks out into the living area, the ceiling light is off, but the fireplace casts a warm glow far out into the room, and there are lit candles on the sideboards, the coffee table, and the mantelpiece. He can smell the faint scent of vanilla and thinks it probably comes from the candles.

His feet are bare, but the polished wood floor feels unexpectedly warm, and there are thick rugs everywhere. He walks across to the fireplace and holds out his hands towards the warmth; not because he's cold, it just feels nice. There's soft music playing, too, on a stereo near the window.

"There you are." Percy is coming out of the kitchen, holding two brightly patterned mugs in his hands. He turns off the kitchen light with his elbow as he passes. They mugs are steaming and, when he comes closer, Credence can smell the sweetness of the chocolate.

But the heat coming off the mugs is nothing compared to Percy himself. His hair is damp from his shower, and he's wearing loose, navy blue pants with a thigh-length robe over them - it's not quite bathrobe, not quite smoking jacket. It too is blue, with a white pattern, and the narrow belt is barely tied, so it's open to his navel.

"The floor is lovely and warm," Credence says absently, quickly dropping his eyes from Percy's stomach to his slender, bare feet.

"Under floor heating," Percy explains. "I hate having cold feet."

"Me too." Credence can't stop staring at him.

Percy has the same problem. "God, but you look sexy in red," he says, and his voice is husky.

Credence tugs a little self-consciously at the wide belt of the blood red robe, which feels like silk. "It's a very nice bathrobe."

"It looks a hundred times better on you than on me," Percy tells him. He sets the mugs down on the coffee table next to Credence and faces him. His fingers trail along the lapels of the robe. "Positively stunning against your pale skin."

Credence bites his lip.

"Are you warm enough in just the robe?" Percy asks, his eyes still following his fingers when they move along the edge of the robe, now touching Credence's skin and the sparse hair there.

"Yes, just right." Credence can hardly breathe when Percy's arms slide around his waist.

"Dance with me," Percy says imploringly.

"What's the dance?" Credence asks, his hands on Percy's biceps, slowly sliding up to his shoulders.

"It's a Rumba, but don't worry about that now. Let's just sway." Percy pulls him close, one hand high up on his back, one low. "This song... Shangri-La..."

"Yes?" Credence places his head on his shoulder with a sigh, and Percy's arms tighten around him.

"Shangri-La is a heaven on Earth, with peace and beauty and perfect happiness. It's a Utopian paradise from a book called Lost Horizon. I'll give it to you; it's my favourite," Percy offers, guessing correctly that Credence's former life has not allowed him the calm, the opportunity, or the leisure to read the classics.

"Thank you, it sounds wonderful," Credence says softly, his eyes fluttering closed. He doesn't need to be able to see to dance like this. "The song is wonderful too."

"Holding you like this is even more wonderful," Percy whispers, resting his cheek against the side of Credence's head. "You feel perfect in my arms."

"Mmm... I feel perfect," Credence murmurs dreamily, smiling when Percy chuckles softly. "When do we learn this dance?" he asks.

"Soon. It's the slowest of the Latin dances." He adds teasingly, "It's known as the Dance of Love, you know."

Credence smiles against his shoulder. "If it goes with songs like this, I'm not surprised."

"I can't wait to dance it with you," Percy says, then adds, a little roughly, "There are so many things I can't wait to do with you."

A warm shiver ripples over Credence's skin. "Tell me," he says bravely. "Please."

Percy groans softly, and Credence's shiver intensifies. "I can't wait to kiss you for hours - just long, slow, lazy kisses that leave you dazed and aching for more. And I can't wait to worship every single inch of your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes."

Credence gasps. "Percy..."

"I'm going to worship you with my hands, and my lips, and my tongue, and my whole body."

The vividness of the images conjured up in Credence's mind makes him tremble.

"I can't wait, but I _will_ wait, to take you - in my bed, on the sofa, in the shower, on the dining table, on the kitchen counter, against the tall window looking out at the bridge..."

Credence is shaking by that point. "What about that big bath tub?" he breathes, then is shocked at himself.

Percy makes a surprised sound of delight. "Absolutely." He slides the hand between Credence's shoulder blades up into his damp curls, and Credence quivers from the sensation. "It's been far too long since I've kissed you," Percy tells him, and then corrects the oversight.

Credence agreement turns into a whimper in Percy's mouth, his fingers tightening their grip on the broad shoulders, and he presses hard against Percy. The robe is certainly silk, he thinks dazedly. He can feel the heat of Percy's body along the whole length of himself, as if he's wearing nothing at all. He feels faint.

Every one of Percy's kisses makes him feel faint. They're so far from what he expected kisses to be. He feels consumed by him, as if he's the very air Percy needs to survive, and he loves that.

When their lips part, Credence's mouth feels swollen, and he feels... hungry, that's the only way he can describe it. He's not so naive to think it's food he hungers for.

"That hot chocolate will get cold, if we don't control ourselves," Percy says. He looks rather dazed too, Credence is happy to note. "Let's sit on the rug in front of the fire, since you like it so much."

Credence takes the few steps to it and slides down to his knees, his legs nearly disappearing in the thick red rug, which is tickling all his exposed skin delightfully.

Percy sits down with his legs bent at the knees and apart, and beckons Credence into the space in between.

Blushing, Credence crawls forward, looking up at Percy from under lowered lashes when he hears a gasp. Percy's eyes are dark and filled with heat and, when he figures out why, he keeps crawling closer, smiling teasingly.

"Credence..." Percy's voice is pleading. "Come sit, and be good." He coughs dryly when Credence grins, and snags him around his waist, as soon as he's close enough, to turn him sideways - Credence's back now leaning against Percy's left knee.

Credence's feet aren't cold, but when Percy lowers his right leg to the rug so Credence's feet are tucked under his thigh, it feels very nice anyway. He snuggles against him in this sideways pose, and Percy reaches back for one of the mugs, blows over the top of it, and raises it to the red lips. Now Credence knows why they're sitting like this. He inhales the sweet steam deeply, parting his lips just far enough for Percy to rest the mug against the seam of them, and drinks.

"Good?" Percy asks, smiling when Credence hums delightedly and closes his long fingers around his.

"Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?" Percy murmurs, kissing his cheek softly.

"Everything. The wonderful day, your breath-stealing kisses and touches, your beautiful gift, showing me your home, the delicious picnic... for giving me both champagne and hot chocolate in one single evening!" Here, Percy laughs. "And for being... you."

When Credence blushes at realising how he's going on, Percy kisses his cheek again.

"You're welcome for everything. And I just knew that blush would be hot against my lips." He smiles when Credence pretends to look indignant, and raises the cup to his lips again to keep him quiet.

Credence's eyes meet his while he sips, the chocolate the perfect temperature.

"Do you know that your eyes sparkle when you're happy?" Percy asks, running the fingers of his left hand through Credence's hair.

"Probably just the flames from the fire reflecting," Credence protests softly.

"Absolutely not." Percy steals a sip from the mug, then lets Credence have another. "Your eyes are beautiful, angel, so exotic, and I'm going to make it my mission to make them sparkle all the time."

Credence feels warm all over. He takes his hand off Percy's on the mug and touches his cheek instead. Percy presses into the touch. "Just thinking of you makes me happy. Being with you..." Credence can't even put it into words. He doesn't need to. Percy's pleased smile, and the way he turns his face and kisses the palm, tell him he understands.

They finish the hot chocolate - Credence is the one holding the second mug while they share it - and then Percy shifts him in his arms so Credence is lying back against his chest and facing the fireplace. The coffee table behind supports them both, and Credence rests his head on his shoulder.

"I never cancelled our dinner reservation," Percy muses. "Someone scrambled my brain completely." Credence giggles, and he smiles. "Never mind, they would have had no trouble finding replacement diners."

"Where were we going to have dinner?"

"A fantastic Italian place on the waterfront. Don't worry, I'll take you there another time." Credence's smile is soft. He snuggles back against Percy, his hands on the knees either side of him.

Percy nuzzles the left side of his neck, his right hand stroking the smooth skin on the other side. "There's something about smelling my soap on you that drives me wild," he confesses.

Credence's breath hitches. "You need to tell me what it's called, so I can wash with it all the time."

"You like me wild, do you?" Percy's voice is rough, and he bites the neck under his lips tenderly.

Credence gasps and shudders. "I like it when you have trouble being good, because of me." He hopes he's explaining what he means, and he thinks he's succeeded when Percy laughs huskily.

"You should be very pleased with yourself then."

"I am." He closes his eyes to concentrate purely on the kisses against his neck, shivering violently when Percy's lips start on his left ear, nibbling on the outer rim tenderly, then sucking the lobe between them. He knows he's breathing hard by the time the tip of Percy's tongue dips ever so slightly into the shell, but he's unaware his grip on Percy's knees has tightened.

Percy is _well_ aware. "Are you having a little trouble too?" he teases.

Credence can only groan his answer, wishing now he too was wearing pants of some kind. He knows he'll have to make sure not to move too much. Naturally, that's when Percy's right hand slides over the front of his neck and down to dip behind the lapels of the thin robe, and he squirms.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Percy whispers.

Credence nods, and Percy's hand stills just before his fingertips brush his left nipple.

Mewling, Credence struggles to make himself understood, "No! I mean... I'll tell you, but... please don't stop."

"Okay, angel, I won't." Percy's fingers caress the hard nub gently, squeezing it between two fingertips, palm measuring the increased pace of Credence's heart. He moves his hand back a little, to hook his thumb over the lapel, and brushes it aside to expose the left side of Credence's chest, and his left shoulder - to his eyes and the warmth of the fire.

Credence is panting, his skin tingling. He's also very aware that the caress of the shifting silk has worsened his problem. Though he wonders how much of a problem it really is, because he can feel Percy hard against his lower back.

Percy's hand traces across every exposed inch of his upper body as if memorising every detail of its texture, and he lowers his mouth to the bare shoulder, kissing it lavishly for several minutes while murmuring compliments to Credence's skin and pallor and fine bones. His fingertips only hesitantly move lower until they reach the silk belt. "May I?" he pleads breathily.

Credence's stomach drops; it's a pleasurable sensation. He thinks he should probably be too embarrassed to be exposed to Percy's eyes so completely, but he wants to be. He wants to be seen, and touched, and he wants to feel Percy grow more excited because of him, because it's still a miracle to him that he can inspire such want. "Yes, please," he whispers.

Percy rewards his acquiescence with a tender kiss to his cheek. His lips feel moist, as if he's been running his tongue over them, which pleases Credence with its implications. The smooth fingers of Percy's right hand draw the belt open easily, and brush it aside and, with it, the sides of the robe part to reveal how aroused Credence is.

Percy takes a shuddering breath. "You're pure art, Credence, the most beautiful being I've ever seen."

When Percy says things like that, Credence believes the wildly unlikely and impossible, and he sighs delightedly. He feels so warm, and admired, and cherished. And he feels Percy shift against him a little, accommodating his own growing arousal more easily. Credence closes his eyes, and his lips part.

"My beautiful angel..."

Credence whimpers. He's quickly realising that whenever Percy uses a possessive term, it makes him feel especially excited.

"Do you like it when I call you mine?" Percy guesses, and Credence can only nod. "You don't know how happy that makes me, my sweet boy, my darling." Percy's kisses are on his jaw now, his lips tracing the sharp, perfect lines of it. "Because you _are_ mine. All mine." His voice has dropped almost low enough to be a growl.

Credence can't suppress his moan, feels himself twitch, a drop or two welling forth on the tip of his cock.

Percy groans low in his throat. He hasn't touched what he has revealed yet, but he asks breathlessly, "May I taste you? Please."

Credence's mind threatens to shut down entirely. He nods, because he can't speak.

Percy's right hand slides over his belly, tracing the line of hair trailing down. The only part of his cock he touches then is the tip, where he gathers the shiny fluid on his fingertips; Credence gets even harder.

He tilts his head just enough to watch Percy raise the fingers to his mouth and suck them inside. He whimpers when Percy closes his eyes and smiles, as if savouring the finest delicacy.

Percy's eyes open and meet his. "Do you want a taste too?" he whispers, leaning forward until his mouth hovers just above Credence's, but it's his fingertips Credence feels, on the tip of his cock again, circling it and then teasing the slit, until more liquid wells forth, and he gathers it up and brings his fingers between their parted mouths, resting them on Credence's bottom lip.

Credence isn't sure he wants to taste himself, but he can't resist with Percy looking at him like that, and he wants to please him, so he closes his lips around the fingertips and suckles.

Percy is groaning, and Credence's eyes widen. "Don't you taste delicious?"

Credence doesn't know how to answer. What's truly delicious to him is Percy's delight at his taste, his arousal at sharing the taste. The brown eyes are on fire, and he nods, thinking about how he can't wait to taste Percy, but he's not quite bold enough to say so.

Percy smiles at him, and then his eyes trail down his chest and stomach again. He straightens his left leg on the rug too, and leans down to gently draw Credence's left thigh onto it, spreading his legs wider.

Blushing, Credence thinks it's as well they're in front of a fire and not a mirror. The soothing heat is so relaxing, and the fire glow so flattering, that his embarrassment subsides soon enough. He vaguely notices the rain has picked up again; the music has either stopped or is drowned out by it.

Percy's left hand is caressing the soft skin on the inside of his thigh, while the right rests over his belly. When his fingers finally slide through the widening strip of dark hair to enclose the base of Credence's cock, Credence almost cries with relief.

"Still okay with this?" Percy murmurs.

"Yes." Credence jolts a little when Percy's hand flutters along the surface to the tip, which is leaking again, and tightens as it strokes back down, smooth and sticky this time. He gasps.

"You're so sensitive, angel, so responsive," Percy praises. "And you feel so good in my hand." He continues his slow strokes, alternating between light touches and tight squeezes, his hand still on Credence's thigh, while his mouth flutters kisses all over Credence's neck and shoulder.

So much stimulation in several places at once is soon too much for Credence, and he knows he won't last long. He squirms, moaning when Percy's hardness shifts against him. "Percy!"

"Are you close?" Percy asks huskily, and his fingers tease along the underside of Credence's cock. When Credence only manages an affirmative noise, he slides them over the tip, thumb pressing down on the slit while his other fingers squeeze it tight, and then he moves his thumb below the rim and says, "Come, my darling. Come for me."

Credence cries out helplessly, jolting and twitching as his cock spurts long, thick strings of semen all over Percy's hand, his own stomach and thighs. Percy's lips are at his ear, breathing more than saying his name, over and over, and it takes him a long time to refocus his vision. "Oh..."

Percy kisses his temple, then his cheek. "Lie down, darling, I'm going to clean you up."

Credence lets himself be shifted on his side, and then his back, on the rug, and he assumes Percy is going to go and get a washcloth. Instead, he looks on blearily as Percy kneels between his legs, smirks at him, and leans down to lick up the long stripe of semen reaching from his navel to his sternum. "But..."

"Let me?" Percy pleads, and then his tongue dips into Credence's navel to lap up the tiny puddle there.

"Okay," Credence gasps. He watches the rapture on Percy's face while he licks across his belly to gather up every little splatter, sucks drops out of the crease of his thigh and hip, moves down to lap up the creamy streaks on his inner thighs - the left one is especially messy. He's shivering, the wetness of Percy's tongue feeling so good on his warm skin. Blindly, he reaches to touch Percy's hair.

Percy leans down, smiles, and kisses him - salty, bitter, but perfect. And Credence moans at the taste now, at Percy having cleaned him so thoroughly. But he's wrong, Percy isn't nearly done. When his mouth is released again, Percy slivers back down and lies on his stomach between his legs.

Credence raises himself on his forearms, looking down at him questioningly, then realises that, of course, his now limp cock is still covered in his own seed. He blushes, and Percy holds his eyes, as his lips slide down over the wet head, sucking hard. Credence whimpers.

Instantly, Percy releases him, and asks, "Too sensitive?"

Nodding, Credence says, feeling a little bit ashamed. "It's still nice, though."

"Say no more." Percy smiles, and starts to lap all around his cock, before licking up the sides, holding it up with a two gentle fingers around the tip.

Credence stares. He can't believe Percy wants to be doing this for him, seems to be enjoying himself immensely, even. He watches the brown eyes flutter closed once in a while, the lips moving gently over his sticky skin, tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and reaching every last spot, until his cock is shiny with saliva rather than semen. And he realises he's begun to pant, and is growing hard again already. He doesn't know whether he should feel ashamed, should apologise for his lack of self-control.

Percy moans softly, gazing up at him from beneath lowered lashes. "I was hoping that would happen."

Credence gulps. He watches helplessly as Percy, not releasing his eyes, lowers his lips back over his tip, very gently this time, with only minimal suction, but he can't stop the groan escaping him. And then Percy's hand closes around the nearly fully hard shaft again, stroking it lightly with the aid of the wetness completely covering it. And he can't even watch, he just lets his head fall back into the softness of the thick rug, whimpering helplessly when Percy's tongue starts to play against the rim, before tickling the slit until it begins to leak.

Credence's fingers are buried in the rug, clutching at any thread of the shaggy fabric he can hold onto to anchor himself. His toes are clenching in the softness too, left leg bending a little at the knee, and Percy's right hand slides under the thigh, stroking it soothingly. 

"Okay, angel?" Percy asks, as if there was anything remotely angelic about lying spread out, practically naked, being pleasured like this.

Credence can't help the husky laughter bubbling from his throat. "Wonderful."

"Don't be embarrassed," Percy murmurs, with his uncanny ability to know what Credence is feeling at any given time. He crawls up alongside him, just holding his cock in his warm, sticky hand while looking down into Credence's flushed face.

"You're so beautiful, darling. I love looking at you. You're like a pearl against all that deep red." Percy kisses his flushed cheek. "Being allowed to touch you, and taste you..." His lips are on Credence's, smiling when, with this kiss, there's a hum of enjoyment at the taste. When their mouths separate, Percy is still smiling. "I love how you surrender to me."

Credence moans, feels his cock throb in Percy's hand. "You're so good to me," he whispers. "I want to be yours. I want you to do anything you like to me."

The groan greeting that offer is muffled against the side of his neck. "I want to do everything to you, baby. _Everything._ You tempt me so." Percy is moving down again, kissing his way over Credence's chest and stomach, then down his belly. "But I also want to savour you. So, for now, just let me do this?" He looks up to meet Credence's glazed eyes.

Credence nods, and bites his lip when Percy kisses the tip of his cock, then flicks his tongue over it until it's nearly too much, and then encloses it with his mouth and takes him deep, deep into his throat. He cries out when he hits the back of Percy's throat, his involuntary jolt halted by Percy's steadying hand around the base of his cock, and then Percy's left hand cups his balls lightly, and he really starts to suck, sliding his warm mouth over his entire length over and over, and Credence knows that, had he not come twice already that evening, he'd never last this long.

The suction and speed of Percy's mouth keeps changing, keeping him on the edge for several minutes, sheer bliss held just out of his reach. And then Percy shifts a little, staying between his parted legs, except for his left calf, which he hooks around Credence's right ankle to pull that leg closer, and Credence can feel him hard against the inside of his knee. Hard and throbbing noticeably through the soft fabric of his pants, and it's all he needs.

"Percy, I'm... ah!" He hopes he won't suffocate him, coming so far back down his throat, but Percy seems to be in no distress. Instead, he swallows several times over, which feels wonderful, and groans deeply, the sound travelling down Credence's shaft and intensifying the aftershocks of his own orgasm, as Percy throbs and comes, warm wetness seeping through the leg of his pants against Credence's bare knee.

"But, I wanted to..." Credence starts, a little regretfully, moments later, then blushes when Percy's dazed eyes meet his.

"Next time, darling. Tonight is all about you." He smiles. "Though I'll have to change yet again." Credence chuckles, and Percy slithers up his body, careful over the sensitive area, and takes his mouth in a long, leisurely, salty kiss.

Credence wraps his arms around him, whimpering at the taste and the wetness against his groin. Percy's hands slide under his bare back, between the robe and his warm skin and. even now, completely exhausted and drained, he feels cared for as never in his life.

When Percy releases his lips at last, but keeps looking deep into his eyes, Credence lifts his hand to touch his fingers to those hard-working lips - they're soft, but bruised, from pleasuring him so tirelessly for so long, and he opens his mouth to say something... anything to express the magnitude of what he feels. "Percy, I..."

"I love you." Percy's voice is pure tenderness.

Credence gasps. "Yes," he breathes.

"Yes?" Percy smiles softly, almost nervously.

"That's what I was going to say."

Percy swallows hard. "My darling," he whispers. And they're kissing again, with Percy extracting his right hand from under him, sliding it under his nape to move and shift him in his arms until they're side by side, with Credence's back to the fireplace, Percy's arm under his neck, legs entangled and their bodies pressed close.

Credence is stroking Percy's cheek, a soft smile on his lips when they separate from Percy's. "I do. I love you." He laughs softly. "So much." Then he feels tears stinging his eyes.

"Hey, hey." Percy cups his chin, thumb tracing his trembling bottom lip. "Darling! I hope those are happy tears?"

"Oh yes." Credence, though now feeling moisture sliding down his cheeks, is smiling. "Sorry, I'm such a baby. I'm very happy." And he clings to Percy as tightly as he can.

Percy's arms are warm around him, warmer than the fire behind him, warmer than the soft rug beneath them. And then Percy whispers close to his ear, "You're _my_ Shangri-La, angel. You're everything I've searched for."

Credence's tears soon dry between them, but his smile lasts long after he murmurs his response. "Thank you for finding me, my love."


	9. Heaven on Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter 9 Playlist** :  
> Spend My Time With You - 11 Acorn Lane  
> Heaven on Earth - The Platters  
> All I Do Is Dream of You - Gene Kelly  
> Slow Serenade - Tape Five
> 
>  
> 
> _No dancing in this chapter, just a little background music._
> 
>  
> 
> Note: I am _so_ sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. RL has been interfering in my writing schedule every single day this week, and I've had a hell of a time getting some peace and quiet to work on this. It is a long chapter, too.

When Percy reluctantly gets to his feet, he says, with a rueful smile, "I haven't needed this many changes of clothes in one evening since I was a baby. I hope you're proud of yourself, darling."

Credence nods, keeping his face as serious as he can manage. "I am."

"Minx." Percy is chuckling as he goes off.

"Oh wait, I'm going to get my phone out of my clothes," Credence tells him, following him into the bedroom and walking through to the bathroom. He fishes his phone out of his trouser pockets in the en-suite, and checks his messages as he wanders back into the living room, carefully avoiding glancing into the walk-in closet where Percy is changing. He smiles when he sees three messages.

 _Tina_ : Hope you're okay and he's being a gentleman. Call if in trouble!

 _Newt_ : Don't mind Tina. She worries. Hope you're having a nice time. Sorry to disturb.

 _Queenie_ : So excited, honey! I'm all giddy for you. I bet you're having fun, huh? 😉

He settles back down on the rug and answers them all.

 _To Tina_ : Perfect gentleman. Feel 100% safe.

 _To Newt_ : I know. 😊 Having a fantastic time!

 _To Queenie_ : I am. Lots of fun. 😊

 _Queenie responds immediately_ : Yay! Jacob says not to rush home by midnight like Cinderella. You can start late tomorrow.

 _Credence texts back_ : Thanks! Have keys. Don't wait up for me.

Once he puts his phone down on the coffee table, he glances at the wall clock. It's 11.40 p.m. His eyes widen in surprise but, obviously, he's been rather too distracted to think about the time.

When Percy comes back in, dressed in black jeans and a casual, loose white sweater, and looking just as good as he does in a suit, Credence smiles at him.

"Did you miss me?" Percy settles on the edge of the sofa, next to him, and looks down at Credence.

"I did," Credence says honestly. "I checked my messages too."

"Oh dear. I bet your friends are wondering whether I've abducted you. I just saw the time."

Credence laughs. "They're all some kind of concerned for me. I have keys to let myself in though, it's okay." His words slow and quiet gradually, when he realises Percy is paying more attention to his lips than to what he's saying. "Hey, are you listening?"

"I sure am." Percy winks. "Sorry, your mouth is very distracting, and I've promised myself to resist you for the rest of this evening."

"Why?" Credence pouts.

"Don't do that." Percy groans. "You're making it harder." When Credence laughs, he joins in. "I'm starting to wonder if you're not really a little demon in the shape of an angel."

Credence's laugh slowly turns into a sweet smile. "That's funny. I've started wondering if there's not really an angel hiding under your devilish good looks."

Percy holds out his hand and, when Credence takes it, he stands and pulls him up to his feet too. He holds him loosely around the waist, eyes sparkling when he says, "You're a charmer."

Credence leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Percy's mouth. "You're definitely the charming one." Percy starts to deny it, so Credence slides his mouth over to kiss him properly, and Percy seems to forget he was going to argue with anything, responding eagerly to the first kiss truly initiated by Credence, his hands tightening on his waist, a soft groan felt as much as heard by Credence, who considers it encouragement and experimentally lets his tongue venture into the heat of Percy's mouth, where it is greeted enthusiastically.

Eventually, Percy draws back, inhaling deeply, and rests their foreheads together. "So much for resisting you. It's settled - you're irresistible."

Credence smiles. "You could stop trying."

"I want to, believe me." Percy holds him close, cheek against cheek. "I want to so much, baby, but I also don't want to overwhelm you." When Credence starts to protest, he raises his right hand and places his index finger across his lips. "And I don't want your friends to think I'm some kind of predator, keeping you away all night after a first date."

"You worry too much," Credence says, then looks quite startled. "I've never said that to someone other than myself!"

Percy laughs, against the side of his neck, which makes Credence shiver. He moves back just far enough to meet his eyes. "You're probably right, but it's important to me that you know how much I respect you, and that your friends like and accept me. You know why, don't you?" He raises his right hand and cups Credence's cheek, before sliding his fingers through his curls.

"Yes," Credence breathes. "Yes, I do."

"Good. So..." Percy takes a steadying breath. "We're going to pretend now that what we both really want to do is to find you some trousers which fit and are not damp and sticky. Then we're going to pack your things into a bag, and get back in the car, so I can drive you home at a fairly reasonable time. Sound good?"

"No. Let's do it."

They both laugh at that.

Percy leads Credence through the bedroom into his closet. "Pick anything you want. I'm guessing you just need trousers? Are your shirt and everything else okay?"

"Yes, just trousers." Credence is nearly dizzy with choices. He's not remotely surprised at either the quality or quantity of Percy's clothes, and he hesitates to start searching through the items on display.

"Want me to suggest something?" Percy asks, seeing his uncertainty, and Credence nods gratefully. He smiles and reaches to the far left end of the hangers holding trousers, withdrawing two pairs of cotton slacks - one black, one dark grey.

"These are a bit tight on me, and you're slimmer. Black might be better if you don't want anyone to notice you're wearing different trousers to the ones you went out in." 

Credence grins. "Okay."

"Underwear is in that drawer here. If you want any." Percy is smirking at him, and Credence blushes. "I think it's best if I wait for you in the living room." He's drifting a little closer, even as he says this.

Credence bites his lip. "Probably, yes."

"Right." Percy grins and walks out through the bedroom, closing the door behind himself.

The trousers are a fairly good fit, and Credence admires not only their cut but the softness of the cotton. As he heads for the bathroom to put his shirt and socks back on, his steps slow as he passes the large bed, and he can't help drifting up towards the elaborately carved headboard, sliding his hands over the smoothness of the bedding on the way. He sits on the edge of the mattress, finding it firm but comfortable, and lies back for a moment. He slithers around a little and closes his eyes, imagining Percy pressing him back into the luxurious softness. He can feel it against his bare back and arms, opens his eyes with a gasp, and quickly stands up, smoothing the sheets back down with his palms.

Percy is waiting for him with a small black canvas bag for his 'laundry'. "You can tuck this under your blazer once you take it off. It won't be noticed." His eyes dip down to Credence's hips and legs. "Nice fit. You should keep those." His voice is low.

Credence smiles. "Thank you."

* * *

On the drive back to Credence's place, Percy says, "You won't be too tired tomorrow? I imagine you start work very early."

"Jacob says it's okay for me to start late tomorrow." Credence smiles. "So I can take my time dreaming of you."

Percy gives him a quick sideways smile. "I'll try to dream the same dream, maybe we can meet up?"

"That would be nice. You can teach me the Rumba, so I'll be ahead of the rest of the class."

Laughing, Percy tells him, "It'll be the Cha Cha Cha next. Nice and easy beginner's Latin dance."

"That's what you said about the Paso Doble!" Credence groans.

"Ah, but you'll like this one better. It's a very sexy dance." Percy swears softly under his breath then and, when Credence asks him what's wrong, he says, "I just realised how hard it's going to be, dancing with you in a room full of people paying close attention, now that I know how you look writhing on my hearth rug."

"Oh God." Credence covers his face with his hands. "And all I'll be able to think about is what you did to make me writhe, and you thinking about that."

"What a test of self-control classes are going to be from now on." Percy is chuckling. "Sweet Jesus. It'll be even worse than before."

"Were you thinking about me on your hearth rug before?" Credence teases.

"I _tried_ not to while dancing with you, but yes, among other things," Percy admits, and Credence looks equal parts pleased and amused.

Traffic late on a rainy weekday evening is not too bad, and Credence generously pretends not to notice that Percy adds a few quite unnecessary detours to make the trip last longer. Eventually, they do arrive in front of the house. The main lights are off, and only a couple of lights are on upstairs - in the bedrooms, and the light above the front door.

Percy, after opening the passenger door for Credence, helps him into his blazer, then reaches for the bag of clothes and the gift box and carries them to the house, with Credence strolling slowly alongside him.

The night air smells freshly laundered after all the rain, and even the sky looks clean; the moon is a perfect half circle, and it's clear enough to see stars. When they get to the door, Credence leans against the door and murmurs, "Good night kiss?"

Percy smiles. "Oh yes. Unlock the door first, and I'll put all this down inside."

Credence finds the key and turns it and, when he opens the door, Percy places the box and everything just inside, then draws the door shut again.

Credence takes a deep breath, and Percy's hands are on his cheeks, and his mouth descends on his parted lips as if they haven't kissed in hours. Credence whimpers, his arms sliding around Percy's waist, fingers clutching the back of his sweater under the coat he's wearing again.

Percy seems determined to let Credence know just how much he doesn't want to let him go, pressing him against the door while his tongue drives every sensible thought from his mind. Credence can feel nothing but the hunger in that kiss, and one of Percy's hands cupping the back of his head to protect it when it falls back.

"Going to miss you," Percy is panting into his mouth.

"Friday," Credence gasps for air. "Only two days away."

"Just one now. It's after midnight." Percy's mouth is at his ear, whispering softly. "It'll feel like a week."

Credence laughs softly. "Phone me. Or... come and see me."

Percy groans. "I need to prepare classes, and that'll be the last thing on my mind if I'm with you. I only have tomorrow to do it." He kisses Credence's long neck. "I'll phone though."

"Please." Credence absently notices more light coming through under the door; he knows it's the staircase light. "Someone's coming downstairs," he gasps.

"Nice of them," Percy tells the indent at the base of Credence's neck, and they both chuckle, reluctantly drawing apart. "Well, then, good night, angel."

"Good night, Percy." Credence opens the door, purses his lips towards Percy, and hurries inside before the expression on Percy's face makes him hurry back to the car instead.

* * *

Someone's giggling behind him when he locks the front door, and he smiles. "Hello, Queenie."

"Hello yourself."

She's standing on the bottom step, and there's just enough light for him to find his things and pick them up off the floor. "I didn't wait up, you know," she claims.

"Really?" he asks, smiling.

"Well... not really." She's grinning as he's walking towards her. "I'd ask how you are, but I can see the answer to that."

"Oh?" Credence can only hope she can't tell exactly how he is.

"Your mouth is all bruised, your lipstick long gone, your hair is a pretty mess, and..." She laughs outright. "Those aren't your trousers!"

"Shh!" Credence squeaks, rushing towards her.

"And your eyes are shining. Credence Barebone, you look thoroughly..." He blushes, and she smiles, "happy."

"I am." Credence beams at her. "So happy."

"Ooh, I want to hug you, honey, but you'll want to keep smelling of him, so I won't."

Credence giggles. "You're the best, Queenie."

"Second best only, I bet." She winks. "Better get up to bed, before Teenie comes down and grills you about everything."

Credence definitely doesn't want that just then, so they both sneak upstairs as quietly as possible. He keeps going to the top floor, after Queenie wishes him a good night and tells him not to come into the bakery the next day until midday, and he shuts his bedroom door behind himself just as he hears Tina coming out of her room and Newt's, asking Queenie, "Was that Credence coming home?"

He leans back against the door and grins. Then he has a sudden thought and runs across to the window. He flings the curtains opens and yes, Percy's car is still there. The lights are on, and he's about to drive off, but Credence waves frantically, and he sees him peering out the window, waving back, so he blows him a kiss. He feels childish and silly, but he doesn't care when Percy does the same.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Credence wakes up even happier than the day before. Immeasurably happier. He glances at the clock on his bedside table: 9:28 a.m. He listens for a minute, and the house is quiet. Everyone has gone to work, of course and, for a moment, he freaks out, but then he remembers that he's not due in until midday. He quickly sets his alarm for 10:30, in case he falls asleep again. He doesn't think he will, because now the one thing on his mind is Percy, and he's wide awake. He groans at realising just how awake.

He tosses and turns for a little while, and is just considering getting up, when his phone rings. He scrambles to reach for it, knocks it to the floor in his hurry, and nearly falls out of bed trying to reach it before the caller - Prince Charming, his phone's screen informs him gleefully - gives up.

"Percy!" he gasps into the phone the moment he hits the button.

Percy is laughing. "Good morning, angel. What a nice start to the day. You sound excited."

Credence falls back, phone to his ear, and smiles. "I almost fell out of bed trying to get to my phone."

"Oh no. Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful." Credence sighs. "Good morning."

"Hmm. It is, isn't it?" Percy's voice is low and sexy. It makes Credence shiver. "Did I wake you up? I couldn't decide whether to let you keep sleeping or risk missing you before you went to work."

"No, I've been awake for a little while. I'm not due to start until 12."

"Good." There are soft rustling sounds at the other end of the line.

"Are you still in bed too?" Credence asks, feeling giddy at the thought.

"Yes. I'm not a morning person. I usually start planning classes mid-morning, and most of the classes at _Magic Spell_ are late afternoons and early evenings."

"Oh." Credence knows he sounds distracted, but all he can think about is Percy lying in bed, snuggling into that beautiful bedding while talking to him. If he turns on his side and closes his eyes, he can almost imagine him lying next to him.

"You were my last thought falling asleep and my first thought on waking up," Percy tells him softly.

"You were mine too," Credence admits. "I miss you."

"God, angel, I miss you too. It's been..."

"Hours." Credence smiles.

"Many hours," Percy says, adding dramatically, " _So_ many hours."

Credence giggles.

"I missed that sweet sound too, and your sparkling eyes to go with it."

Feeling warm all over, Credence hums into the phone. "I miss the way you smell, Percy. I want to wrap myself up in you."

"Baby..." Percy sounds husky.

"And your voice. Though, at least I have that now."

"Now all I can think about is what it would feel like to spoon you and feel every part of your body against me."

"That would be so nice," Credence muses, almost feeling the sensations.

"Very nice." Percy's voice cracks a little. "I bet you'd push back against me too, to drive me completely mad."

Credence's heart beats faster. "I might," he teases.

Percy is chuckling. "I bet you're all warm and soft, right after waking up. Your curls are all over the place, some of them tangling in your eyelashes. Eyes only half open and dreamy. Pyjamas askew, because I bet you toss and turn a lot."

Credence listens, smiling. Now and then, he confirms Percy's suspicions with a soft, "Hmm."

"I can so easily imagine how you smell early in the morning. God, I'd love to nuzzle against your neck, bury my nose in your hair, kiss the space between your collarbones..."

"Percy," Credence sighs. "I'd love to be woken up like that."

"I'll keep that in mind for future reference." Percy sounds a little breathless. "Are you lying on your back?"

Credence shifts a little. "I am now."

"Good. Close your eyes, angel, just listen to my voice."

"Okay."

"If I was there now, I'd climb into bed with you, and I'd slide my body on top of you, but I wouldn't put my whole weight on you. I'd move between your long legs, and I'd support myself on my forearms, while licking and kissing every exposed inch of your sleep-warm skin."

Credence sighs, flipping open a few extra buttons of his pyjama top.

"What are you doing?" Percy's voice is quietly amused.

"I'm... giving you more skin to lick and kiss."

"That's my baby. Open every button you've got. Will you do that for me?"

Credence whimpers when his fingertips brush his navel and the trail of hair below it, as he undoes the last two buttons. "My top is completely unbuttoned," he tells Percy.

"Mm. All that lovely pale skin."

Credence hesitates a moment before saying, "I want to feel your skin against mine, Percy."

"You want me to take off my pyjama top too?" Percy asks.

"Yes, please."

"Since you're asking so nicely."

Credence smiles, but then he hears Percy shifting in his bedding, and sighing, and he holds his breath.

"I've turned over now, darling. I'm on my stomach, and I'm imagining you under me." Percy's voice is different, lower, a little more strained.

Credence gulps. "I can almost feel you pressing me into the bed." He's embarrassed by the sound of his own voice - raw and cracked.

"I can feel you too, baby. Do you know what I want to do to you?"

"Tell me," Credence begs huskily.

"I want to take your wrists and pin them to the pillow above your head. I want you to feel helpless to move as I kiss every inch of your face, neck and upper body."

"Percy," Credence gasps. He's been half hard since he woke up, but now he's straining against the front of his pyjama pants, slightly lifting the elastic waistband away from his belly. "Please, that's so good."

"You like that?" Percy asks roughly. "What if I press my hips into you as well? I bet you're as hard as I am."

"Yes," Credence moans.

"Fuck, baby, to feel you sliding against me, whimpering under me. I want to make you come just like that. Push your pants down over your hips. Actually, take them off completely."

"You too," Credence retorts, doing as he's told and listening to the sounds of shifting fabric at the other end of the connection. He sighs with relief when his cock is free to brush against the softness of the sheets.

"Yes. God, angel, you feel so much better than this damn mattress."

Credence can't help it, he laughs huskily, but Percy joins him.

"Your skin is like silk, and you squirm so prettily. If you were under me right now, I'd probably come in seconds."

Credence gasps out, "I wouldn't last any longer than that."

"What a mess we could make all over each other," Percy rumbles into his ear.

Whimpering helplessly, Credence cups his erection, pressing it against his belly to keep from coming. Then he wonders, somewhat recklessly, why he shouldn't, but he wants Percy to tell him what to do. "I wish you were here," he confesses. "I'm so close, and I haven't even touched myself until now."

A soft groan from Percy makes him tighten his hand. "Do you want to come, angel? Are you slick enough to do it, or do you need to get something?"

"I'm... slick enough," Credence says, blushing.

"Mm. I bet you are. You know, I can still taste you, if I concentrate hard. You're so delicious."

Breathing hard, Credence gathers fluid the moment it seeps from his tip, almost continuously now, and strokes up and down his cock as slowly as he can bear. "Tell me what to do... please."

"Oh, baby, part your legs a little wider, imagine me nestling between them, moving lower."

Credence obeys, drawing his knees closer to his body, feet flat on the mattress. His eyes are tightly closed, and he's using more pressure on his cock to simulate Percy grinding against him.

"I want to see you. Every part of you." Percy's voice is deep and husky now, curling Credence's toes. "I want to lie between your legs and hold your thighs open while you stroke yourself, and I want to look at your pretty little pink hole."

Credence tightens his hand, half sobbing, half moaning. "But... Percy!"

"Keep stroking yourself, angel. I'm just looking. You're so beautiful, so sweet and vulnerable." Percy's voice becomes coaxing, "But... I really want to touch, if you'll let me. I want to feel that flutter of the muscle under my fingertips as I explore, and I want to lean in and breathe over it - you'd be so sensitive there too, maybe even more so than anywhere else. I think you'd love it."

Credence can barely hear him over the rushing in his ears. He's equal parts embarrassed and aroused beyond belief, and Percy isn't even... there, he's just telling him about it. He whines a little.

"We'll find out soon how you like it," Percy whispers. "Won't we?"

"Ye.. yes," Credence agrees hesitantly.

"Will you let me touch you there, with a fingertip? I'll make sure to be careful, and it'll be slick, and I'll only probe you very gently at first."

Credence is moaning, his hand is flying over his cock now, and he's sure Percy can tell. Can hear. He should be so ashamed, but he's so very turned on too.

"I'll only push it a little way in at first, just far enough to feel you grasping at it, closing around it. Or maybe... maybe I'll start with my mouth."

Credence's eyes widen. "What?"

"Maybe I'll kiss you there and, when I feel you fluttering under my lips, maybe I'll work my tongue inside you. Do you know how good that's going to feel, baby?"

Credence doesn't know anything anymore, except that he's seconds away from coming all over his hand. "I'm so close, Percy," he gasps out. "Please." He can hear a low groan through the phone, is sure he can hear Percy rutting against his own mattress.

"Why don't you come for me, baby? Don't worry if I'm down there between your legs. I don't mind you coming all over my face. I'll love it."

And Credence cries out, erupting over his hand, his belly, his groin, against the sheet covering him. When he hears Percy's grunt of satisfaction, it seems to extend his own orgasm, and he keeps pumping his cock until he can't bear it anymore, and then he falls back, sticky hand on the mess all over his belly, fingers of his left hand barely managing to keep holding on to the phone.

They're both silent for a minute or two, just listening to each other's heavy, irregular breathing until it calms down.

When Percy speaks, his voice is muffled, as if his face is half pressed into the pillow. "Oh, darling. Even across town, you drive me mad."

Credence gasps in disbelief. "I drive _you_ mad?"

Percy's stifled laughter sets Credence off too. "What a pair we are."

"Hmm." Credence smiles. "I'm so embarrassed, Percy, but that was..."

"Was I wise to introduce you to _that_ idea at a distance?"

"Yes, I think so." Credence blushes as he trails his fingers through the slickness on his belly. "Is that really... done?"

"Only if you're agreeable to it and, I personally think, only with someone you truly love," Percy says softly. "I've never done it _to_ anyone."

"Oh... yes, then," Credence agrees, equally softly.

"I do love you, angel," Percy murmurs.

"Love you too." Credence lies on his side, snuggling up to the phone. He can hear Percy shift around too.

Percy is wincing. "Here's something I have to do today: laundry."

Credence giggles.

"Did anyone catch you last night?" Percy asks, with a smile in his voice.

"Queenie, and she spotted the trousers at once."

"Well. So much for my cunning plan."

Credence laughs. "It doesn't matter, Percy."

They chat for a few more minutes, and then Credence's alarm pops up at the top of the screen.

"I need to start getting ready for work," he says regretfully. 

"I should probably do something to earn a living too." Percy sighs. "Where is your bakery? Just in case I can't bear to wait until tomorrow to see you."

Credence tells him the address, hoping fervently that Percy will get impatient.

"I'll be thinking of you all day," Percy assures him.

"I'll probably get myself fired for burning bread and charging customers wrong."

Percy laughs. "No, you won't. I bet you're very conscientious."

Credence smiles. He wishes he was half as perfect as Percy seems to think he is, but it feels too good to be so loved to want to point out his failings.

He's still smiling long after they've said good bye and while he's getting ready for work.


	10. Let's Never Stop Falling in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
> **Chapter 10 Playlist** :  
> Oú est ma tête? - Pink Martini (This song literally means _Where is my head?_ )  
> Let's Never Stop Falling in Love - Pink Martini  
> Smooth - Santana  
> Zou Bisou Bisou - Gillian Hills  
> Surrender - Elvis Presley  
>  _Wall to wall music in this chapter, and dancing eventually too, and it's all Cha Cha Cha._
> 
> Note: I know. I'm still slower than I meant to be. This month has become a crazy rush of writing commitments I can't wriggle out of, and they're all due soon, and I'm still short on sleep. So, if it's just one chapter a week for another week or so, I apologise; I'll do my best for that to not happen, but it's a possibility.

Credence doesn't burn anything at Kowalski's that day, but it's a close call a few times. What he _can't_ stop doing all afternoon is to jump and peek into the shop each time the chime above the door rings.

Jacob and Queenie eventually take pity on him and put him on selling, rather than baking, duties, with an amused Jacob taking over for him out the back.

It's a little after 4 p.m. when Credence rises from a crouch behind the cash register, with an armful of replacement paper bags to restock the bread section, and finds himself looking into Percy's eyes.

He breathes something that was meant to be 'hey', but it just comes out as a gasp.

Percy stares. "Hello, angel." His gaze moves a little desperately all over Credence who is, as usually at work, dressed entirely in white - a plain T-shirt, loose pants, and an apron featuring a dizzying array of tiny embroidered pastries along the waistband. Finally, Percy's eyes settle on the little white cap, duplicating some of the pastries on the trim, and sitting lopsided on his black curls. He exhales through pursed lips.

"I love an angel in uniform."

Credence smiles brightly, just staring at Percy in his white polo shirt under a black leather jacket, paired with plain black jeans; he looks _so_ good. He doesn't even hear Queenie calling out a 'hello' from a few feet away.

Percy absently glances over and raises his hand for a quick wave at Queenie, who waves back with a smile while pretending to make a tray of croissants look exceptionally presentable. Percy murmurs urgently, just loud enough for Credence to hear, "I couldn't bear to stay away any longer. You're a drug, and I'm hopelessly addicted to you."

Credence nearly drops the bags when every nerve in his body feels like a harp string just plucked. "How do you make me feel like this with just a few words?" he croaks.

Percy looks into his eyes. He doesn't need to ask how exactly he makes Credence feel. He swears softly under his breath. "So much for calling in quickly on the way to the studio, just to say hello."

"Hello." Credence laughs huskily.

Percy joins in. "How would your friends feel about a customer backing you into the bread shelf and having his wicked way with you right here?"

Credence blushes furiously. "Jacob would try and rescue the bread, and Queenie would probably take photos," he guesses in a shaky voice.

"Yes, I would." She passes by them with an empty tray, giggling, and says, "Go on, love birds. You take a break, Credence. Just try to be back by the 4:30 rush."

Percy smiles. "Thank you, Queenie. You're a star."

"Don't I know it?" She grins and tells Credence, "Apron and cap," holding out the tray.

Credence beams at her, and takes off both, promising to be back on time.

* * *

Percy takes his hand and leads him outside and, by silent agreement, they hurry down the street and across to the edge of Mission Dolores Park. There are quite a few people out and about, but Percy pulls him around one of the wide oaks so they're at least out of sight of the street, and presses him back against the trunk; it's as much privacy as they can hope for in a busy part of San Francisco, in the middle of the afternoon.

They're both panting hard, but don't take the time to regain their breaths before Credence clutches at Percy's back and Percy takes his mouth in a desperate kiss. Credence can only hold on and hope they won't be arrested for indecent behaviour. Unlike the previous evening, they aren't hidden by heavy rain and darkness, but out in the open with people all around and enjoying the sunshine.

Percy doesn't seem to care, and he proceeds to make Credence forget about everything but his taste, his touch, and the solidity of his body. His hands roam all over Credence's back, waist, shoulders, nape, and back of his head when it falls back with a deep moan issuing from Credence's throat.

"God, baby," Percy sighs into Credence's mouth, nipping at his lips, licking at his palette and the tip of his tongue.

Credence is making little whines and moans, shivering all over. His fingers are digging into Percy's back. He wonders whether Percy hasn't eaten all day, just waiting to devour him. When he asks him, in breathy gasps, the moment he gets the chance, Percy chuckles.

"I'm sorry, baby. The moment I see you, I'm starving."

"I'm not complaining," Credence reassures him.

Percy kisses Credence's cheek. "You looked so cute in your apron and cap, too." When he feels Credence's smile against the edge of his mouth, he adds, "I imagine I'll get turned on now whenever I smell freshly baked bread."

Laughing, Credence says, "Remind me to bake some for you at your place." He's rewarded with Percy groaning against his neck, pressing into him hard, and he whimpers.

"I wish I didn't have classes to teach all evening. I'd be sitting on the sidewalk outside your bakery, waiting for you like a faithful dog."

Credence's lips twitch at the visual. He caresses the short hair at the side of Percy's head, then runs his fingers up into the longer, fluffier layer. "What time do you finish?"

"The last class ends at 10 p.m."

"Oh no! And I really need to start on time tomorrow morning. They're letting me get away with murder today."

Percy meets Credence's regretful eyes. "They are great people."

"I know." Credence sighs. "We'll see each other tomorrow. We'll just have to make it that far."

"Hmm." Percy strokes a few stray curls back from Credence's temple, but it's a losing battle against the breeze, so he continues down the side of his face to trace his jaw line. "And of course, I can't attack you like a rabid animal the moment you walk into the studio. That would be very unprofessional."

"It would be fun though."

"Don't tempt me." Percy strokes his thumb over Credence's chin, looking deep into his eyes. "After class, would you like to go to the movies with me?"

Credence smiles. "Yes, please."

"Do you like classic movies? There's a Hitchcock season on at the Castro Theatre. It's close to Magic Spell, we can walk there within minutes."

"That would be lovely."

Percy whispers in his ear, "We can cuddle in the back row."

Credence closes his eyes, sighing at Percy's breath on his sensitive skin, even warmer than the spring breeze. "That'll be nice." He snuggles into Percy's arms. "I hope the cinema won't be too crowded."

"It won't be," Percy says confidently, making Credence laugh.

"Are you going to tell everyone at the door that the screening is cancelled?" Credence asks, then he gasps, remembering the time. "Oh no, I need to go back to work!"

"So do I," Percy grumbles. He takes Credence's hand and they reluctantly make their way back to the bakery, where he walks inside with him and buys a chocolate croissant from Queenie to make up for abducting Credence.

She grins as she hands the bag to him, while Credence reties his apron. "Do you two have plans tonight?"

"I'm teaching until 10," Percy says with a sigh. "But we're going to the movies tomorrow evening." He smiles at Credence.

"That's great, you won't have to worry about bed times on a Friday." Queenie gives Credence a mischievous look. "Jacob is taking me out until late; no idea when we'll get home. And you know Tina and Newt are going to take off for Point Reyes tomorrow evening, and staying there until Sunday evening, right?"

Credence's eyes widen. "I didn't know that."

"You must have been distracted when they were talking about it _all week._ " She laughs. "Newt has been going on about seal pups and watching gray whales migrate along the shores, because it's March, and Tina wants to tear out evil shrubs with the Habitat Restoration people up there."

Credence looks miserable. "I'm a terrible friend. I had no idea!"

Percy reaches across the counter and cups his cheek. "Do you want to go with them, angel?" he asks, even while looking concerned Credence might say 'yes'.

Credence leans into the touch, looking torn and guilty.

"Nonsense!" Queenie says, watching the tender exchange happily. "They're all set to stay with friends up there. They do this every year. And honestly, no one's expected Credence to pay attention to much of anything this week."

Credence blushes, and Percy starts laughing.

"I only brought it up because, you know, if you two want to make plans for this weekend... or no plans at all, and you want to just come and go as you please, don't mind Jacob and me. We won't be getting in your way." She winks at Credence, and grins at the calculating look in Percy's eyes.

"Thanks, Queenie." Credence is smiling, peering at Percy from under his lashes. The look he gets in return is doing nothing to rid him of his blush.

* * *

By the time they get ready for the dance lesson the next day, Credence has apologised profusely to Tina and Newt for having been so distracted, and is relieved they're merely amused by it.

At dinner on Thursday, he's told everyone about _some_ of his time spent with Percy the day before, unknowingly filling in any blanks with blushes and stutters. Everyone's been thoroughly impressed when he told them about their candlelit champagne picnic in the rain, described Percy's apartment with shining eyes, and as for Percy's gift - the scarf - it's a big hit, with Tina and Queenie enviously cooing over it.

He feels so good when getting dressed for class, he at first tries to match the scarf to something, but decides it needs a different occasion than a class, or a date in a dark cinema.

So he instead pulls the new fluttery red shirt out of his closet and, after a brief hesitation, slips it on. It's the first time he's wearing it, and he gasps at the way the silky material caresses his skin and the translucent sleeves flutter around his arms. He is a bit worried about the low cut and the absence of buttons above his sternum, but when he goes and asks the girls if they have anything to get rid of his chest hair, they both assess him.

"If you really want to," Queenie says doubtfully, "but you're not exactly a gorilla, you know. You look very sexy just as you are."

Tina laughs, agrees, and also informs him that, "Waxing hurts! And it's going to leave your skin stinging and red for a while. Shaving might too."

He considers his options and decides to wear the shirt and not risk a rash, at least for now, and when he puts on Percy's tight black trousers and uses a thin black and red striped tie as a slightly snazzier belt, he feels really good in his skin.

He wears make up too, and even gives the bright red lipstick a try - a little shocked at the resulting look, he dabs away the top layer and replaces it with the coral lip tint - the end result is a muted but fresh red tone that's an exact match to the dots on his shirt. He smiles at himself in the mirror, feeling more comfortable than ever before in his life, except while wearing Percy's red silk robe.

"Wow," is what Newt says, when he nearly walks into Credence on the landing and just manages to stop himself from tripping down the stairs. "You look... uh, you look... amazing, Credence." His freckles brighten a little, he doesn't seem to know where to focus his eyes, and finally he ducks his head, looking bashful. "That really suits you. Everything, I mean."

Credence blinks. "Thank you, Newt."

Tina squeals when she comes out of their room and sees him, then checks herself as if remembering that she doesn't squeal. She does smile though.

* * *

Queenie grills him on the way to the studio about just how he managed to make that lipstick tone so perfect.

"You two should start a beauty parlour together," Jacob suggests playfully. "You'd make more than the bakery!"

Credence giggles, while Queenie reassures Jacob that she'd never desert him and his pastries for any reason, including a higher profit margin.

All the joking with his friends has almost made Credence forget how nervous he's feeling about dancing in public with Percy after, well... the way things are between them now. He's sure everyone will be able to tell with just one look at them. He's not sure whether his flamboyant outfit will distract from that or make things worse, but it's too late to change anything now.

* * *

The look in Percy's eyes when he sees him enter the studio convinces him he's done the exact right thing, if not in the sense of helping either of them appear unaffected. The fact that Percy is dressed in black from head to foot, with a laced shirt front and Spanish style collar, will certainly not help him.

Credence can't take his eyes off Percy's hips during the presentation dance. The way they snap from side to side, while his feet just glide over the floor, is mesmerising.

They're taught the basic in place and the side basic steps, and Credence is relieved there's nothing too complex there, because he doubts he could cope.

He's standing at the water cooler, gulping down a cup, when Percy's voice murmurs in his ear, "You look delicious. What are you trying to do to me?"

His knuckles are stroking the small of Credence's back, out of sight, but Credence is certainly aware of it. He discards his empty cup, staying exactly as he is to enjoy the touch a little longer. "What are _you_ trying to do to me with those hip moves?" He gasps when Percy's fingers slide behind his waistband, and he pulls him back against himself, just for a moment. "Percy." He closes his eyes, glad no one can see his face.

"I can't help the nature of the dance." Percy sighs when Credence does turn to face him, before anyone notices what they're up to. "Though I suppose you can't help being delicious." Percy doesn't seem to know where to look first - at Credence's red mouth, his black-lined eyes, or his long neck and largely exposed chest in the flattering shirt. "You didn't need to add such tasty garnish. I may die before the end of this lesson."

Credence's laugh is a little croaky. "You're a professional, you'll be fine."

"We'll see." Percy, sounding doubtful, leads him to the dance floor, just as Seraphina starts the music. He doesn't notice her sneer at Credence, as she schools her features into her usual impassiveness quickly.

Once Credence gets over his embarrassment because, after all, everyone in the room is hip snapping and swaying in a manner that would have made Mary Lou scream about lewdness and sin, he really starts to enjoy himself. The music is fantastic, and he can't help saying, "This isn't so hard."

Percy gives him a pained look. "Angel, there's going to have to be a list of words and phrases you're not allowed to use while dancing with me in public now."

Credence laughs, but he's blushing. He quickly distracts himself by watching his friends dancing near them. Jacob is really into it, and Queenie looks to be having a lot of fun too. Tina and Newt look decidedly awkward at first, but actually start watching him and Percy very closely, trying to fall into step with them and eventually succeeding.

The tune in French, rather cute and probably from the 60s, make Credence smile. "What's this song about?"

"It's all about the joys of kissing." Percy smirks. "It's also a rather public declaration of love."

"Oh," Credence blushes. "I guess not many people here are likely to understand it."

Percy looks at him fondly. "I'm happy to shout it from the rooftops, to be honest."

"You are?" Credence smiles, telling his heart to stay put when Percy nods and returns his smile.

The turns where they're separating allow for a lot of fancy improvisation, and Credence can't help teasing Percy - with a beckoning finger and flirtatious smile when he retreats, and with raised arms and a sultry look past his see-through sleeves as he's spinning towards him.

Percy's revenge is to let the hand on his shoulder blade rotate in little circles, the resulting friction creating warmth through the thin shirt which makes Credence tremble. Anytime he can get away with it, namely when Credence's back is turned towards the long wall rather than the rest of the class, he lets his hand slide down to squeeze his left buttock or traces his fingertips up and down his spine as if he's playing scales on a piano.

"Are you trying to make me forget the steps? Because you know that'll be easy with a beginner like me, and very unfair," Credence checks. Instead of getting a response, he's pulled a lot closer to Percy than is usual for a Cha Cha Cha.

"I'd like you to forget about everything but me," Percy tells him in a low voice, "and I want you to give some thought to where you'd like to spend the night."

"Percy!" And just like that, Credence's heart begins to thump in time to the music. "Don't say things like that now."

"Just give it some thought," Percy says innocently. "When you have a moment."

"As if I'm going to think about anything else now!"

Percy laughs unrepentantly. "The movie will distract you. It's _Strangers on a Train_ , you know. Excellent writing, and the acting is great too..." He goes on like that, as if he thinks Credence is actually listening to anything but the sound of his voice.

Credence gulps. The lyrics of the Elvis Presley song they're now dancing to suddenly start to actually penetrate his distracted mind, and Percy's eyes are burning into his, and even his hands feel hotter than they did a few moments before, and Credence feels utterly mesmerised.

When they take the usual break, Percy leans in and whispers, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, but that blush looks wonderful with your shirt."

"You're not sorry at all." Credence huffs out a laugh, and Percy smiles and squeezes his hip, so he makes a very ineffective threat not to dance with Percy ever again, but they both know he doesn't mean it.

When Percy goes to attend to the rest of the class, he leaves Credence behind with a smile on his face, and he is still smiling when Tina and Newt join him at the edge of the dance floor.

"You're really starting to look as if you know what you're doing, Credence. I'm envious!" Tina exclaims.

Newt is grinning. "Maybe being in love with your dance instructor gives you a whole new appreciation for movement."

"Newt!" Tina pokes him in the shoulder playfully, but she's smiling. "You've made him blush really badly."

Newt shakes his head. "Nope, he looked like that before I said a word."

"Oh?" Tina raises a brow.

Credence can't look at either of them. "I might have got a bit... warm, dancing."

"It's an energetic dance," Newt agrees, but he's still grinning.

Tina pokes him again, clearly trying to put Credence out of his misery. "Any plans for the weekend?"

"Don't know yet," Credence tells her. "We're going to the movies after this, haven't thought ahead yet."

"We're off the moment we get home. There's some stew in the fridge, if you're not going to a restaurant."

"And if you don't have a picnic basket handy," Newt chimes in.

Credence giggles. "I don't think Percy's going to bring one into the cinema."

Newt looks over to where Percy is patiently teaching an exceptionally awkward man how to lead his partner in a turn. "I don't know, I suspect he's full of surprises."

"Yeah." Credence can't help the misty way he looks across the room at Percy, or the way his lips quirk up when his look is noticed and returned with a soft smile.

"Someone has it very bad," Tina muses, but she doesn't have that worried tone anymore; it's just a statement of fact.

"Two someones," Newt clarifies, watching Credence, and she nods her agreement.

Credence knows they're right, and he knows he loves his friends.

As for Percy - he think he might love him so much, his heart is in danger of bursting.

* * *

There's no hiding the fact that they're leaving together when class is over, and Credence doesn't dare look in Seraphina's direction while Percy helps him into his jacket.

Once outside, Jacob and Queenie wish them a great night and go off down Market Street, and Tina and Newt give Credence quick hugs and tell both him and Percy to have a nice weekend, before making their way to the cable car stop.

They have a good half hour before the movie starts, so they head towards the Castro at a comfortable pace, with Percy's arm around him. 

"Are you happy with just a snack during the movie?" Percy asks brightly.

Credence says yes, and wonders when his mind slipped so deep into the gutter that a harmless question like that has him wondering whether Percy is even talking about food. When he glances at him briefly, and Percy winks at him, he wonders no longer.


	11. A Little Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No music in this chapter. Feel free to play Hitchcock's _Strangers on a Train_ as your background ambiance. :)
> 
> I hope you haven't all given up on this story! Now that all my pesky fest deadlines are out of the way, this is my absolute priority, and I intend to return to the previous posting schedule of more or less twice weekly updates.

The Castro Theatre is a tall white building comfortably straddling the line between the end of the Art Nouveau and the beginning of the Art Deco period. Once they enter the foyer with its remarkably unique ticket booth, Art Nouveau decidedly takes over.

Credence tries to listen in on Percy's negotiations with the woman selling the tickets, and watches wide-eyed when he hands over what looks like a substantial amount of money for two tickets. The woman is smiling, seems on the verge of laughing, in fact, when she glances over at Credence, who's waiting off to one side.

They get a couple of ice creams and, when Credence says he doesn't really like popcorn, a bag of potato chips, and a couple of drinks.

"What was all that about at the ticket counter?" Credence asks, when Percy takes his hand and leads him upstairs.

"I was making sure we won't be crowded in." Percy smirks at him.

"Did you... did you buy up extra seats?" Credence asks, a little shocked.

"Just the other two in the same row, and I paid a little extra for her to make sure the couple of rows in front of us in our corner won't be on sale unless the entire rest of the cinema is full; something that, I'm assured, never happens. You don't mind being right up at the top and back, do you?" He smiles sweetly at Credence.

Credence splutters out a laugh. "Newt was right. You are full of surprises." He lets out a small squeak. "No wonder that woman was grinning like that! She's going to think—" He blushes furiously.

"No doubt she's thinking what a lucky guy I am, getting you all to myself in a quiet corner," Percy teases. "I can't have you get bored with me, can I?"

"That will never happen." Credence means every word.

Percy meets his eyes, his own softening at the sincerity in them. "I'm just making sure."

When they get to the very top of the upper balcony, and head to their seats off to the side of the projection booth, Credence feels as if he's on top of a skyscraper. A very lush, temperate, skyscraper in warm, dark red tones.

Percy takes his jacket and, along with his own, places it on one of the extra seats he paid for. Then he lets Credence slide into the left seat and takes the right one, at the end of the row.

There are quite a few people on the two lower levels, and about half a dozen in the centre seats upstairs, but they're a long way away. The Castro is vast and roomy and yes, it seems unlikely nearby seats will be taken, especially as there are only minutes left until the movie is due to start.

When the lights are dimmed for trailers, Credence becomes very aware of how private and unobserved their location feels. He only half pays attention to the coming attractions that are part of the Hitchcock film festival – _Shadow of a Doubt_ and _Rebecca_. He listens to Percy commenting on both, and how good they are, especially the first, but soon he's only listening to his voice. His nearness in almost perfect darkness feels so intimate, he finds it hard to pay attention to anything else.

By the time the curtains open all the way, and the last of the lights, except for the emergency ones, are dimmed, Percy's left arm has found its way around his shoulder.

"You forgot about your ice cream," Percy murmurs into his right ear.

It is, indeed, starting to run over the side of the cone, and Credence only just manages to catch it on the tip of his tongue. He got vanilla, while Percy got chocolate; Percy's just about eaten his, and he's chuckling. 

"You dipped the tip of your nose into it." Percy leans over and licks it off, making Credence giggle.

"Hmm, that's nice. Better eat the rest of it quickly."

Credence licks all around the rim of the cone and up to the centre of the swirl of ice cream, then mischievously dabs at his chin and right cheek with it. "I think I'm getting this all over my face," he says, making sure to sound exasperated with himself.

"Really? How clumsy of you, baby." Percy is looking at him, can see the dots of vanilla ice cream with the light from the screen reflecting off them, and smiles. "Want me to clean that up?"

"Please." Credence sighs when he leans close and licks at his cheek, then up the centre of his chin.

"You spilled quite a lot of it into your mouth. Let me take care of that too."

Credence starts chuckling at his silliness, when Percy presses his mouth to his, tongue sliding inside as if to ensure the ice cream is properly cleaned up. Credence can taste the chocolate ice cream on Percy's tongue, the sweetness in his breath, tastes it mingling with his vanilla, and moans at the deliciousness of it all. He quite forgets where they are, existing only in a world of flavours and tastes and Percy's deep and searching kiss. When his mouth is released, and he opens his eyes, he's surprised to be reminded he's in a cinema. The main characters on the screen are just meeting on a train.

"Sorry, I'm making you miss the movie," Percy says huskily, smirking a little and leaning back in his seat, arm remaining around Credence's shoulder. "Watch the subtext in this scene, very homoerotic."

"Uh huh," Credence agrees, still dizzy from the ice cream kiss. So he leans his head on Percy's shoulder to recover his equilibrium. He smiles when Percy pecks a brief kiss on the top of his head.

They watch for a little while. It's a great movie, and they're sharing one of the bottles of juice Percy bought. The fingers of Percy's left hand are lightly stroking Credence's shoulder, his thumb tugging at the wide neck as a prelude to the hand sliding along towards his neck.

Credence shivers. Percy's fingertips are fluttering over the edge of his collarbone, smoothing over his skin and up the side of his neck. He's very glad he's wearing such a wide-necked shirt, and one made of such flimsy material that, in the dark, he feels almost as if he's naked from the waist up. When the fingers slide back down his neck and keep going, Percy's hand moving down over the smattering of chest hair and just inside the low-cut neckline to his sternum, he gasps.

"I can feel you shivering," Percy whispers in his ear.

Credence admits to it with a soft sound, which turns into a low moan when Percy's fingertips find his right nipple and brush over it lightly.

"I love this shirt of yours," he murmurs, "it's barely there. Doesn't even need unbuttoning."

Credence laughs softly, huskily. Percy's exploration means they're partially turned towards each other now, and neither of them is paying much attention to the action on the screen, using it merely to provide a hint of illumination. Credence nuzzles against Percy's neck and the underside of his chin, where he smells the intoxicating, and already so familiar, aftershave. 

Feeling mischievous, Credence reaches across the armrest and places his hand on Percy's left thigh. He feels the smoothness of the fabric, and muscles bunch under his touch, then relax again. He just leaves his hand there, not moving it, but it only takes a minute or so before Percy's right hand covers it, and Credence smiles a triumphant little smile. He starts to move his hand up towards Percy's hip, taking Percy's hand along.

Percy doesn't stop him, he just shifts in his seat, legs further forward and apart, back curving a little.

Credence's breathing speeds up; Percy is giving him easier access. His fingers tighten on the firm flesh of Percy's thigh, and Percy gasps. His fingers slide into the spaces between Credence's, and he tenderly strokes the thin skin there with his fingertips, and it's not a sexual touch, but it feels strangely intimate, as much as the hint of touch on his nipple did, and Credence finds himself trembling and wishing they weren't in public.

And then Percy draws Credence's hand further up his thigh and inwards, to where the skin through his trousers feels warmer, and Credence holds his breath. The arm around his shoulder tightens, drawing him even closer, while Percy's hand manoeuvres his to cover the definite bulge in his black trousers.

Credence bites his lip when Percy lets out a shuddering gasp. He eyes his profile, sees his eyes flutter open and closed, lips parted, and smiles. The movie is all but forgotten. When Percy lets go of his hand, placing his on the other armrest, and leaves him to his own devices, Credence is at sea for a moment. Then he decides to let Percy's reactions guide him and watches him closely as he tightens his grip gently, rubbing up and down a little; the responding twitch coinciding with a sound out of Percy's mouth that sounds like either _good_ or _God_.

Credence lets his hand slide up high enough for the base of his palm to press against the top of Percy's trapped cock, and he gets a jolt of hips in response. Then he slides his hand down, further down than before, until his fingertips reach right between Percy's legs, his palm cupping him again. He's still hardening further under that touch, and it gives Credence such a rush to do that to him. He remembers how Percy made him feel when he... and how much he wanted to return the favour then, but Percy was so determined to make him feel good, he didn't give him the opportunity. He smiles to himself; he has the opportunity now.

Blushing, but it doesn't matter where they are, he leans across so both his hands can work open the belt buckle, button and zip of Percy's trousers.

"Baby!" Percy is half gasping, half laughing, clearly surprised.

"Shush," Credence says, and ducks his head when Percy chuckles at being shushed.

He wonders whether Percy is going to stop him, whether this is too much in a public place, and he doesn't want to be stopped. He hurries, desperately pushing fabric down and to the side, and then he can reach in and finally feel Percy's hard cock in his palm. His spine feels as weak as warm rubber for a moment, because Percy moans his name softly and pushes into his grip, clearly having no intention of putting a stop to this.

Credence can't believe how good it feels to have that warm, firm cock in his grip. He can barely see anything, so he feels every throb and twitch that much more intensely. He tries to remember exactly how Percy touched him, and his grip tightens as he moves his hand up and down, letting the edge of his index finger drag up against the tip as he reaches it, swiping over it the third time he gets there. His fingers end up sticky, damp with the first pearls of Percy's seed welling from the head of his cock.

Credence wants to know his taste. He desperately wants to know if Percy tastes like he does. He uses the hand not around the hard cock and swipes across the tip with his index finger, before lifting it to his lips.

A soft, barely suppressed groan catches his attention. Percy is watching him and, even in the dim light from the screen, Credence can tell how his eyes have darkened and how much harder he is breathing. He's licking his lips too, whether because they're dry or to give Credence a hint what he wants, he doesn't know. But in either case, Credence knows what _he_ wants.

His eyes meet Percy's for a moment before he shifts his weight to his right hip and angles his body across the armrest. He leans down and his mouth slides over the head of Percy's cock.

"Fuck," Percy gasps, the fingers tightening around the nape of Credence's neck—a warm, comforting weight.

Credence has no idea what he's doing, but it's working. Percy is suppressing little noises, and he's so very hard. Credence works his mouth up and down as much of the shaft as he can fit inside, and the spongy tip is leaking continuously now. Percy's taste is intoxicating, different to his own—saltier, darker somehow. He's desperate to let Percy fill his mouth with his essence, and he just hopes he's not angled so awkwardly that it will all run right out again. He feels Percy's right hand on his head, winding into his hair, tilting his head so he can glance up at him sideways.

"Don't hurt yourself, angel," Percy whispers raspily. "Your hand will be enough."

His neck is straining, and it's distracting, but Credence doesn't want to stop, so he does the only thing he can think of. He slides off his seat, into the narrow space in front of it, and worms his way between Percy's legs. It's too tight, awkward, there's just not enough room for two pairs of legs and a body, even a slight one.

"Wait," Percy says, shifting until he sits at an angle that allows him to hook his right leg over the armrest at the end of the row, and Credence can more easily squeeze between him and the empty seat in front of them, because he's now kneeling at the outer edge of that row. They're both very glad there's no one sitting in their tucked away corner of the upper balcony, because they've been jostling the seats in front a fair bit.

Credence can't even reach all of Percy's cock like this, there's too much clothing in the way, but at least he _can_ reach without twisting his neck, and he can look up at him—and Percy is looking down at _him_ as if he's an offering from the gods, dropped at his knees. He locks his eyes on Percy's as he takes him back into his mouth.

Percy's hand is under his chin. He's not pushing inside, just letting Credence take what he can. He can barely move his mouth halfway down the shaft with Percy's boxers in the way, but it seems to be enough. Percy's cock is twitching in his mouth, leaking profusely, his right hand slides into Credence's hair again, gently guiding without force.

"So close," comes a raspy murmur, and then a soft groan when Credence tightens his lips around him to ensure he doesn't miss out on a single drop. It's what pushes Percy over the edge, and he floods his mouth, giving a pained whimper.

It's a lot more than Credence was expecting, and he gulps and swallows as fast as he can, mindful that he can't start coughing and spluttering without drawing attention to them doing something they definitely shouldn't be doing in a cinema.

The expression on Percy's face as the lights from the screen flicker over it is so adoring, so grateful, when he manages to keep up with the flow. He's still gasping, the fingers in Credence's hair are shaking, when he draws him up and close with the other hand on his waist.

Credence tips up his face and stretches his neck to kiss him, and Percy practically ravishes his mouth, as if he's memorising how it tastes just after he's filled it. And they kiss until there's nothing left but Credence's own flavour.

"Whose stupid idea was it to go to a movie?" Percy asks urgently, and rhetorically, against Credence's bruised lips, which curl into a smile. "I need you, baby. I need to be alone with you. Really alone."

"Yes," Credence agrees. His heart is pounding wildly. "Yes, Percy, please."

* * *

They manage to get out of the cinema with some difficulty; it's dark and a long way back down to the foyer, where the woman at the ticket booth stares at them wide-eyed, then chuckles. "Have a good night, guys. Sorry you couldn't stay for the whole movie. Emergency, I guess?"

They both laugh, and Percy wags a threatening finger at her.

Once outside, they make their way back in the direction of the studio, and to Percy's parked car.

Turning towards each other once inside, they both move forward and kiss again, frantically.

"Your place is closer," Percy says, "but if you'd rather—"

"Yes," Credence gasps. "It is." He nips at Percy's bottom lip. "I don't want to wait any longer than I have to."

Percy groans softly when Credence's lips fasten on his neck. "My angel's wish is my command. Your place it is."


	12. Homeport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No playlist additions for this chapter, but feel free to seek out a "creaky bed springs and heavy breathing" ambiance. ;)
> 
> And again, I must apologise for the delay. RL has it in for me lately, plus this chapter proved very stubborn, for some reason. In order to lessen my guilt and stress when this happens, I won't claim to be able to do twice weekly updates, which just hasn't been happening, but I will certainly try for weekly ones. If I manage to do better than that, yay.

Because it's Friday night, the traffic is a lot thicker than either Percy or Credence are happy with. Even taking the most direct route to Credence's place takes three times longer than on a good day. Percy makes sure to drive safely, but Credence can't seem to keep from touching him. His distracting fingers trace his cheek, the side of his neck, the knuckles of his hand on the steering wheel, and play up and down his thigh.

"Keep that up, angel," Percy finally growls, "and I'm going to pull over any old place, and I don't care if we get arrested for the things I'll do to you on the back seat."

"Percy!" Credence laughs a little nervously. He wouldn't entirely put it past Percy to make good on his threat, so he withdraws his roaming fingers reluctantly. 

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Percy says, more softly, looking at him when he has to stop at a set of traffic lights.

Credence nods. He licks his lips, which feel too dry when Percy looks at him like this, with streetlights reflecting in eyes that are more pupil than iris, dropping to track his tongue across the red flesh.

"You nearly killed me in the cinema, you know," Percy says huskily, smiling when Credence looks sheepish. "Lovely surprise though."

Credence is pleased. "I was overdue to surprise you, after everything you've already done for me."

"I plan to do a lot more for you, and to you, darling."

"Looking forward to it," Credence says boldly.

The driver in the car behind them is tooting, because Percy is so busy devouring Credence with his eyes, he didn't notice the lights changing. He curses softly and gets them underway again, while Credence is grinning to himself.

"I can see that smile in the corner of my eye, you know. Just you wait 'til I get you home, you distracting siren."

Credence laughs.

* * *

Thankfully, home only takes about five more minutes, and the house is dark, except for the front door light.

"Queenie and Jacob aren't back yet," Credence says while turning the key in the lock.

Percy has grown very quiet since the traffic lights, and he follows him inside without a word.

"We haven't had dinner yet. You must be hungry, and I know Tina left something in—"

Credence doesn't get a chance to finish his nervous prattling by telling Percy about the stew. He's spun around and pushed back against the closed front door, and Percy's mouth crashes down on his, swallowing his words. He goes limp, hands meeting behind Percy's neck, moaning around the persuasive tongue sliding between his lips. And then he's suddenly lifted up and Percy, even with his hands under his buttocks, manages to nudge his legs higher around his hips, and the friction makes them both groan.

"Where's your room?" Percy gasps against his mouth urgently.

"Top floor," Credence murmurs, laughing when Percy groans. "Better put me down. It's a long way." He flicks on the staircase light beside the door.

"Absolutely not." Percy smiles at him and heads for the stairs, shifting Credence so he can more easily see past his shoulder.

"You'll collapse by the time you get me up there."

Percy raises a heavy brow. "You don't have much confidence in my stamina, do you? Looks like I'm going to have a lot to prove."

Credence smiles down at him. "I have every confidence in your stamina, but it would be a pity to use it all up just to get to my bedroom."

"There'll be plenty left, trust me," Percy assures him with a wink, already half a dozen stairs up the first staircase, and Credence shivers at both the promise and Percy's easy strength.

True to his word, Percy carries him all the way up both sets of stairs without showing signs of exhaustion, and Credence is duly impressed. When Percy lets him slide from his hold, he opens his door and leads the way, flicking on the single bedside lamp on his way past it. The lamp is which is covered with a multi-coloured piece of fabric, and the room takes on a cosy, warm glow.

"You should be rewarded for so much effort," Credence says, looking up at him from under his lashes.

"I will be." Percy pushes the door shut behind them, his eyes not leaving Credence's.

"I'll open the window, shall I?" Credence suggests, retreating towards it. "It's been shut for hours."

"Hmm." Percy, who keeps pace with him, reaches for the tie Credence is wearing as a belt, even while Credence is throwing the window open. "I'll have to remember not to make you scream." 

Credence's eyes go big and round. He covers up his fidgety nerves with cheek. "I might make you scream."

Percy smiles at him. "I wouldn't be surprised." He slides the tie from Credence's belt loops, then goes to work on the closure of his trousers.

Credence swallows hard. Percy's knuckles keep brushing over his groin, especially while he draws down his zip. He watches as he tugs his sheer shirt from inside the now open trousers, then grows flustered as Percy sinks to his knees. 

He's untying Credence's shoes, removing them one by one, followed by his socks, which he peels down with less than accidental caresses to his ankles, arches and toes.

Credence is shaking hard, making funny little noises, and Percy looks up with concern. "Are you—" He breaks into a grin. "You're ticklish."

"No!" Credence protests vehemently, but his little jolts and gasps prove him a liar. "Oh no, stop, please!"

Percy laughs. "Okay, I will. For now. I'm filing this information away for another time, however." 

Credence looks aghast, mouth open and eyes wide. 

"God, you're adorable," Percy tells him, standing up again by sliding up Credence's body with his hands tracing up his sides from his feet to his shoulders.

Credence is swaying by the time they're eye to eye again, and Percy's hands are moving along his shoulders and to the sides of his neck, then up. He's offering his mouth, turning up his face for a kiss, and Percy takes it, thumbs gently caressing his sharp jaw line while he plunders the sweet red mouth.

Only once he's left Credence breathless does he return to undressing him, sliding his hands under the untucked shirt and slipping it over the heaving rib cage and, once Credence lifts them, the arms held high. He tousles the black curls as the thin material moves over Credence's head, and then carefully lets the shirt flutter down on the little table below the window.

"May I take your shirt off too?" Credence asks, looking over Percy's shirt and the laced black front.

Percy smiles tenderly, his hands tracing down the narrow chest and over Credence's stomach back towards the opened trousers. "You may do anything you like to me, angel. I'm all yours."

Credence pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, meeting Percy's dark eyes. He's so excited, his fingers are shaking when he goes to work on the lace fastenings across Percy's collarbones, then unbuttons the smooth black shirt all the way down, drawing it from Percy's trousers. While he pushes the shirt back off Percy's broad shoulders, stepping right up against him to do so, Percy's hands slide into his trousers, moving them down over his hips along with his underwear, thumbs tracking down over his hipbones and crossing the crease of his groin and thighs, and Credence falters.

"Something wrong?" Percy asks innocently.

"I can't concentrate on undressing you," Credence admits. "Not while your hands are on me."

Smiling, Percy stops what he's doing, stepping back just far enough to look down at Credence's cock, hard and upright against his flat belly. "Want me to help? I'm feeling quite impatient myself," he says huskily. When Credence nods, Percy undoes his own trousers in a hurry, sliding them down his legs while he toes off his shoes. He removes his socks and underwear as well, while Credence strips off his pants, and he's as hard as Credence, despite being one orgasm ahead of him already that evening.

"Percy," Credence whispers, and he's pulled forward and kissed, even as he's being directed towards the bed.

Percy gives him a gentle push, and Credence falls back, bouncing a little and making the bed creak. He's reaching up, his hands on Percy's waist, pulling him forward until he climbs onto the bed with one knee between Credence's legs, one beside him.

When Percy sinks down against him, groaning low in his throat, Credence bites down on his lip hard, closing his eyes. "Oh no, let me see your eyes, angel. I want to be sure I don't do anything you don't want."

Credence's eyes fly open. Percy feels wonderful against him, he's gorgeous, sexy, kind, generous, perfect in every way. He says the only thing he can say. "There's nothing you could do that I don't want." When Percy smiles at him, he adds, "I want you so much, Percy."

He can feel Percy's reaction to those words against his inner thigh, and Percy's eyes are fixed on him as if he's going to strip him down to his very soul.

"You've had me since the moment I first laid eyes on you," Percy tells him in a low murmur. He caresses Credence's cheek even as he gives a little thrust of his hips between his thighs, the tip of his cock sliding against the underside of Credence's.

"Percy," Credence whines. "Please, again." Percy indulges him for a couple of minutes with gentle thrusts, each making them both harder and lessening the friction with more slickness. When Percy's hand closes around them both, Credence gasps, bucking up hard enough for his oversensitive nipples to press into Percy's chest, and Percy's free hand slides under his back, holding him close.

Percy strokes them both in a firm grip, continually changing the speed and length of the strokes, until Credence is fairly vibrating against him. Then he abruptly lets go, his now sticky hand moving between Credence's thighs.

The boy inhales sharply, instinctively drawing his left leg closer to his body so Percy's thumb is grazing the underside of his thigh.

"Yes, like that," Percy praises. "Your thighs are so tempting, I think I could come just from kissing and stroking them."

Credence is whimpering and blinking up at him. "Another time. I... please, I want you to..." He stops, having no idea how to go on. His earlier bravado in the cinema has left him. There suddenly seem to be so many things to ask for, and he has no idea what to name them or what to ask for first.

"Do you want me to touch you here?" Percy asks, and a damp, sticky finger presses lightly against Credence's hole.

"Oh God," Credence whimpers. "Yes, there." He nearly howls when the finger, after just sliding back and forth lightly for a few moments, pushes inside a little way.

Percy immediately withdraws the digit in concern. 

"No," Credence gasps. "More, please."

Percy exhales with relief. "I need to get something out of my jacket. I don't want to risk hurting you."

Credence looks flustered. "There's a little bottle of oil in my bedside table, if that... works."

Smiling, Percy leans on his elbow and reaches over with his free hand to pull open the drawer. The bottle is right in the front, and he retrieves it. After uncapping it, he tips some oil into his palm, sets it aside, and closes his fingers over the puddle, leaving them all thickly coated in it.

As surreptitiously as he can, Credence parts his legs wider, giving Percy even easier access.

"So eager," Percy murmurs, attuned to the tiniest movement from Credence. "I love that."

"I love you," Credence whispers, and is rewarded with a deep, lingering kiss. When a slick finger probes him at the same time, sliding in further than before, he moans into Percy's mouth, contracting around the intruder instinctively.

"You're so tight, angel." Percy sounds quite broken. "You don't know what it means to me that I'm the one allowed to take your virginity."

Credence blushes furiously, but his heart swells at Percy's words. His voice cracks a little, because the probing finger keeps sliding in and out of him steadily and gently, when he says, "I can't wait, Percy. Don't make me wait any longer."

"Just a little longer, baby. Only a few moments more. I need to stretch you so there won't be any pain."

"Okay," Credence is gasping, aware there are at least two fingers exploring him now.

"Too much?" Percy asks anxiously.

"No, I just feel... full." Credence gives him a reassuring smile. "Feels good."

"It's going to feel a lot better soon," Percy promises, scissoring his fingers, making sure adding one more is going to be okay.

When he does, Credence holds his breath for a moment, in anticipation of pain, but there is none—Percy is being almost excruciatingly slow, and he's tempted for beg for him to take him, pain be damned. He doesn't; he knows Percy would stop altogether before hurting him. And then all thought of pain is forgotten when the fingers deep inside him angle a little differently, and pleasure bursts through his entire body from that point outwards, and he moans unabashedly.

"Yes, that's it," Percy encourages, repeating the motion, gazing down at Credence's features as if he's looking into a box of treasures.

Credence's next moan is even louder, control slipping from him completely, and his eyes fly open, meeting Percy's with an expression of adoration.

"You're so beautiful. So sweet. So perfect." Percy's eyes are shining suspiciously.

"Percy," Credence gasps, spasms he can't control wracking his body. "I'm very close, but I don't want to—"

"It's okay, baby, come if you need to." Percy slides down his body, barely interrupting his finger thrusts while he settles low between Credence's legs. "I'll catch you." He presses a quick kiss on the red, flushed head of his cock, then draws him all the way into his mouth, while he continues to probe him.

"God, oh God," Credence wails, jerking under the double assault, clenching around Percy's fingers the next time they're withdrawn almost all the way. When he starts to spill over Percy's tongue, the fingers are pushed all the way back in one smooth, firm slide, making his climax even more explosive, more intense, until he's all but crying out.

Percy swallows and sucks and licks until there's not a drop left, and Credence goes limp under him. But he doesn't stop sliding his fingers in and out, even though Credence is squirming, still riding high on sensation.

"Percy..." he gasps.

Percy moves up his body, fingers crooking inside him.

"Ah!" Credence shudders a little, his spent cock twitching ineffectively. It's too soon, but that doesn't mean his body isn't trying.

"I'm going to take you now, baby, while you're relaxed, is that okay?" Percy murmurs against his cheek.

"Please. Pleeease." Credence's plea is drawn out and desperate.

"Shh, I've got you." Percy's mouth moves over his chin, along his jaw, down the side of his neck. He withdraws his fingers only to reach for more oil, and Credence can hear the sounds of him generously coating his cock in it.

"No more waiting," Credence whines.

"No more," Percy promises. His left hand slides under Credence's nape, elbow supporting his weight on the bed and, with the right, he guides himself into the now well lubricated, widened hole.

Credence gasps, drawing his legs closer to his body, and clings onto Percival. "Oh, this is..." Words fail him. Bit by bit, Percy is sliding into him, and he feels almost impossibly full.

"Just a little more, baby. Tell me if it hurts."

"Doesn't hurt. I need you all the way inside." Credence's voice sounds awed. "Please, Percy."

"We're getting there," Percy assures him. "You feel so good, angel, as if you're made for me."

"I am." Credence looks up into his eyes. "No one else, Percy, only you." His fingertips are digging deep into Percy's back, taking possession even while giving it, and he can tell Percy loves it when he is kissed deeply, the back of his neck squeezed in the gentle grip.

"Hold onto me, angel," Percy is all but growling into his open mouth. "Hold tight. Let's see if I can't make your wings pop out."

Credence laughs, but his laughter turns into a grunt when Percy thrusts the rest of the way into him, hard enough to lift his hips off the bed—which is creaking ominously—and Credence wraps both legs around his hips and hangs on.

Percy, sure now that Credence is in no pain, sets a slow but steady pace that allows him to look into Credence's eyes, cup his nape, and support himself with his free hand.

The bed is creaking like a wooden ship, each thrust sounding like it's ramming an iceberg.

"I'm sorry," Credence is gasping, "we should have gone to your place."

Percy chuckles between heavy breaths. "Next time."

"God, Percy, this feels so good," Credence whispers in awe. "You're really inside me."

Percy manages a quick kiss to Credence's temple on the next down thrust. "Finally," he gasps. "I feel like I've come home."

Credence's fingers slide up Percy's neck and into his hair, and he draws him into a kiss which imitates what the rest of their bodies are doing, and he knows he won't last long, even with the only stimulation to his reawakened cock being the rhythmic glide of Percy's flat stomach along the underside.

Vaguely, they hear voices from outside, and it takes a few moments for them to start sounding familiar.

"They're home," Credence gasps between their mouths.

"Mmm," Percy tries to keep kissing him, thrusting into him, but Credence tries to still him with one hand on his shoulder.

"They'll hear the bed," he says mournfully, then joins in when Percy snickers.

"We'll let them get inside," Percy says, keeping perfectly still, just looking deep into Credence's eyes. "I love you so much, angel," he murmurs, breathing a kiss on the tip of Credence's nose.

Which shouldn't give Credence a jolt of pleasure that makes him tighten around Percy, but it does, and they both groan softly.

The front door closes, and Credence's eyes widen. "Oh no!"

Percy looks at him questioningly.

"Once they go upstairs to their own room, they'll hear this creaky thing more than from outside. Although... Jacob usually wants some food first thing—"

"Then we'd better hurry," Percy says and thrusts deep inside him.

"Ah!" Credence groans, holding on to his back, as Percy starts to pound him in earnest, in quick fire, deep thrusts at constantly changing angles, until Credence is gasping so hard, he starts seeing stars. "Percy!" he moans.

"Come on, baby, grip me as tight as you can, make me fill you up," Percy coaxes him, his breath hot in Credence's ear, his left hand still under his nape and the right one holding Credence's knee, angled so he can get as deep as possible inside him.

Credence moans, contracts around him, feels the answering throbbing, and starts to cry out, the sound muffled in Percy's mouth as he kisses him through the most intense, rushed, fantastic orgasm of his life. 

Percy's groan of completion would drown out the noise of the overtaxed bed, if it wasn't reverberating down Credence's throat, and he's pulsing inside him, over and over, until he slips from the wet channel, his fluids following in the wake of his deflating cock.

Credence is shivering, making a soft, pleased sound at the sensation.

Percy lowers himself to rest his head in the crook of Credence's neck, taking care not to put all his weight on him, and purrs contentedly when long fingers stroke through his hair.

"Love you so much, Percy," Credence murmurs, sighing and smiling when Percy tips his head enough to kiss his Adam's apple, then whispers his response against it.


	13. A Very Good Night

They doze for a while, maybe an hour or two, until a couple of cats outside get into a noisy tiff. There's a gentle night breeze blowing in through the window, and it's late enough for it to be peacefully quiet.

Credence slowly opens his eyes and immediately becomes aware of Percy's warm weight covering most of him. He smiles as he plays with strands of his hair, now flopping all over his forehead instead of tidily slicked back.

"Mmm... nice." Percy's voice is a low, sleepy rumble that makes Credence's toes curl. Percy's tongue darts out, lapping at the base of the long neck, and he smiles when an exhalation, following a gasp, stirs the hairs on the crown of his head.

"Are you hungry?" Credence murmurs.

"You could say that," Percy tells the underside of his jaw as he presses kisses there.

Laughing softly, Credence tugs playfully on a few strands of hair. "I was talking about food."

"I was talking about delicacies." Percy shifts and slides up against him until he's looming over Credence. He leans down to kiss him for a long time—leisurely, slowly, licking his mouth open and exploring it with his tongue in such a lewd way, they're both hard again by the time they stop.

"You're insatiable," Credence accuses huskily. "And I feel filthy."

"I am for you," Percy addresses the accusation without remorse. "Let's be filthy together."

Giggling, Credence nudges at his shoulder. "I've lost all faith in this bed, and I really need to get clean." He frowns as he shifts a little. "And I'm lying in a damp spot."

Laughing, Percy slowly climbs off him. "I'm sorry, baby. Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"There's a little one on this floor, other side of the landing." Credence watches him stretch his limbs, blushing when he's caught and Percy smirks at him. Still, he can't help saying, "You're so handsome, Percy."

"Ah, you sweet thing. You're the beauty in this relationship." Percy leans over him again and presses a kiss to a spot just above Credence's navel, causing him to make a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh, even while he's shuddering, knowing full well how sticky his skin is there.

"I'll go and freshen up, and I'll bring back something to clean you up with," Percy says. "Do you have a bathrobe I can borrow?"

Credence points to the back of his closed door.

"I could have noticed that." Percy looks a little exasperated with himself. "By the way, you have a lovely room. I'm afraid I only had eyes for you earlier."

"I don't mind." Credence is smiling at him sappily, then watches Percy go and struggle into his bathrobe. He stifles his laughter in the duvet he's pulled up to his face.

Percy frowns down at himself. The pale blue, knee-length robe is too tight, especially around the shoulders and arms, pulling up to end just past his elbows. "Oh well, I'll have to hope your friends are asleep by now."

Credence nods, falling back on the pillow once the door closes softly behind Percy. He knows he's smiling as if all his birthdays have come at once, but no one but Percy will see his foolish expression, and that's okay; he's the reason for it.

Percy returns after a few minutes with a couple of towels and several wet washcloths. He sits down on the edge of the bed and pushes the duvet off Credence's naked form, then gets him to lift his hips long enough to move one of the towels underneath him.

"May I give you a sponge bath, dearest?" he teases.

"Yes, please." Credence sighs when one of the cloths is moved over his sternum, his stomach, a little way down his sides, dipped into his navel with a fingertip, and run over his belly and hipbones.

Percy rolls it up and sets it aside to use the next one on his thighs, fluttering the cloth over the tops, then gently parting them with his free hand, to run the cloth down the inside of the left, then the right, before nudging Credence's knees up towards his body and spreading his legs even wider, so he can get to the underside of his thighs.

By the time Credence's legs are clean, warm and damp, he's panting heavily, and once the next cloth is gently wrapped around his cock—helpfully standing to attention—soft moans are spilling from his parted lips.

Percy's eyes are fixed on his work, and he lets the cloth graze over the reddening tip, then slides it lightly up and down the hard shaft like a warm, wet sheath. 

Credence's body jolts. "You're going to undo all your hard work," he warns.

"Then it's a good thing there are a variety of ways to clean you up." With that, he bends down and swipes his tongue over the swollen tip and, encouraged by Credence's gasp, sets about teasing the slit until it gives up the first sticky drops.

"Percy," Credence whines, then has to stifle his sounds with a fist in his mouth, because the head and most of the shaft disappear in Percy's mouth even as the cloth is moved down to fold around his balls. The gentle squeezing motions as the tender skin is being cleaned sends him rushing closer to a climax. Just then, Percy draws off him, and he mewls.

Smiling, Percy withdraws the cloth, picking up the lasts clean one. He wraps it over his index finger and, with his eyes holding Credence's—half-lidded and darker than usual—he touches it gently to his hole, pushing just a little way inside. By the time Credence's teeth have fully sunk into his bottom lip, and his cock has expelled a string of come, Percy is already dabbing at the tender skin around his opening, then sliding the cloth over his perineum.

"Please," Credence whispers, nudging his hips up a little.

"Gladly," Percy tells him, and licks the white trail up his flesh, before sucking him all the way inside.

Within a minute, Credence is shooting down his throat, moaning softly at the swallowing motions around him. He lies limply for a few minutes, just enjoying the way Percy's eyes move over his whole body adoringly. When he reaches out for the belt of Percy's, of _his_ , robe, his hand is grasped and raised to Percy's lips.

"I think it's time for some real nourishment," Percy says. "How about some of that food you mentioned? Because I'm starting to feel very bad about not having provided you with any proper dinner."

"Okay," Credence says, smiling. "That robe doesn't look too comfortable on you. Shall I sneak downstairs and quickly heat up the stew? I'll bring it back with me."

"If you want." Percy stands and strips off the robe. He holds it open, and Credence gets up and lets himself be wrapped up in it. After pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, Percy releases him and climbs back into bed.

"I'll be back very soon," Credence tells him, and hurries from the room.

* * *

When he returns with a tray bearing two bowls of hot beef stew and a plate of bread rolls, he finds Percy sitting against the headboard, studying one of his fashion magazines with interest.

"Oh," Credence says, realising it's the one with ladies' fashions.

"Need any help with that?" Percy asks, but remains in bed when Credence shakes his head. He waves the magazine a little. "I hope you don't mind, angel. I was putting your oil bottle back into the drawer and found this."

"I don't mind," Credence says, feeling a bit embarrassed anyway. He gives the tray to Percy, shrugs out of the robe, and settles in beside him, tugging the duvet up.

"Is there anything in here you like?" Percy asks, watching him closely, nodding to the magazine he's put down to take the tray.

"A few things," Credence admits, not quite looking at Percy.

"Hey, you don't need to be embarrassed. I already know about this, remember?" Percy's voice is soft and gentle. Soothing. And so is the kiss he presses on Credence's warm cheek.

"I know." Credence faces him, feeling silly. "I'll show you after we've eaten."

"Sounds good."

They both realise just how hungry they were once they start digging in.

"This is tasty," Percy says between spoonfuls. "Thank you, darling."

"I only heated it up." Credence smiles, but laughs at Percy's next words.

"But you did a lovely job heating it up."

Once the bowls are empty, and the last crumb of bread is gone, Percy sets the tray down on the bedside table. Credence takes a deep breath and reaches for the magazine on his lap.

Percy draws him close with his arm around his shoulder, and Credence flips pages to get to one of his favourite dresses. "I like this one."

Percy assesses the black sequin cocktail dress with the low-cut back and makes an approving sound.

"And this one too." Credence's fingers runs over the opposite page, a dress in the same collection. This one is purple, partly sheer around the legs, arms and shoulders, and with an embossed rose design.

"As well as tasting great, you have great taste." Percy laughs at Credence's little groan, but he looks pleased that the tension has left Credence; it's obvious he's even a little excited now about showing Percy his guilty pleasures.

"I saw one like this black one in a shop, but it was red."

"And you look lovely in red," Percy says.

Credence smiles. "It was for women of course, it would never fit. Just like these ones."

"Well, there's an easy solution for that." When Credence stares at him in surprise, Percy raises his brows. "We're going to find you something pretty from a menswear store."

"Oh, but— They don't sell dresses, Percy!"

"The right ones will. If we can't find one in San Francisco, which would surprise me, I'll bet you anything we'll be able to order something online."

Credence looks amazed. "You mean there are shops like that?"

"Of course there are." Percy says this as if there's no question about it, as if there are a lot of men like Credence, and as if the idea of ordering a dress for Credence is nothing remotely strange. Maybe it isn't. "We'll look in town tomorrow, shall we? And we'll go shopping online too."

"I..." Credence looks embarrassed again. "I don't have a lot of money at the moment."

"Angel, I'm going to enjoy wrapping you up in the prettiest clothes we can find, and then unwrapping you again, and I don't want you to even think about paying for them."

"But—" Credence is instantly silenced with a couple of fingers across his mouth.

"Please let me do this for you. I don't care about the money. I only care about you." Percy brushes his knuckles over a cheekbone. "I want every single day to feel like your birthday."

Credence smiles dreamily. "Ever _since_ my birthday, every day has felt like that."

"Good." A soft kiss is pressed to his lips. And, after a sigh, another. "At some point, I want to spend an entire day just kissing you."

"My lips would end up bruised."

"Then I'd have to kiss them better."

Credence laughs against Percy's lips. Then he starts to slide out from under the duvet.

"Hey, where are you going?" Percy reaches for his hand.

"Going to brush my teeth," Credence says, "and then I'm going to fall asleep in your arms again. If that's okay?"

"That's more than okay." Percy smiles. "Do you have a spare toothbrush?"

* * *

They are woken up by a soft knock on the door, and a glance at his bedside clock over Percy's shoulder tells Credence it's nearly 10:30 a.m.

"Good morning, love birds. There'll be brunch in half an hour, if you want any. If you don't come down, we'll know you're too busy." This is followed by a peal of laughter from Queenie, whose light steps depart again.

"Do we want brunch?" Percy murmurs sleepily.

"I want you," Credence says.

Percy's eyes fly open, his face instantly alight with interest. "Oh?"

"But... the bed," Credence says mournfully.

"Ah yes, the bed." Percy gives him a very sweet kiss. "Waking up with you in my arms is just as lovely as falling asleep that way."

Credence hums in agreement, snuggling into the warm embrace. "I don't think I've ever slept better in my life."

"Same." Percy's voice is very soft, almost as if he is afraid to startle Credence when he says against his temple, "We should make this a regular occurrence."

Credence holds his breath for a moment, then exhales, and whispers just as cautiously, "How regular?"

His chin is raised and Percy meets his eyes. He looks a little worried about Credence's reaction, but determined. "That's up to you, my angel. I can promise you that there will never be a night that I won't want to hold you in my arms."

"Oh." Credence swallows, his eyes wide.

Percy kisses the tip of his nose." I shouldn't give you such options so early in the day. It's not fair. I don't want to scare you away."

"I'm not scared," Credence says sincerely, "just a little overwhelmed." When Percy's expressive eyes sadden, he quickly adds, "with happiness."

Percy smiles. "Really?" He sounds adorably boyish and pleased to Credence.

"Really." Credence smiles back. He reluctantly withdraws from Percy's warm arms, with the comforting knowledge that he'll be back there soon enough, and climbs out of bed. "I'm going to have a quick shower. I'll leave enough time for you to have one too."

"Okay." Percy lies back and watches him shrug into the bathrobe. His eyes follow him all the way to the door, and he blows him a kiss just before Credence closes it, earning himself a sweet smile and an across-the-room kiss in return.

* * *

They join Queenie and Jacob in the kitchen almost exactly on time.

Queenie is pouring cups of coffee, and Jacob is flipping rashers of bacon under the grill. The smell of brunch is extremely enticing.

"Good morning, Queenie. Jacob." Percy, dressed in his clothes from the day before, smiles at them both. "Thanks for the brunch invitation."

Credence is tucked against his side, proud and envious of Percy's casual ease, and smiling bashfully. "Hey, you two," he says.

"Morning!" Queenie chirps. "There's plenty of food, don't worry."

"Hey, morning!" Jacob gives them a beaming smile over his shoulder. "The usual, Credence? And Percy, how many eggs? Two? Three? Twelve?"

"Yes, the usual," Credence says.

Percy laughs. "Two will do, thanks."

"Coffee or tea?" Queenie offers, grinning from ear to ear. "Tea for you, Credence honey?"

"Yes, please."

"Coffee would be lovely," Percy says. He pulls out the nearest chair for Credence, who blushes at the gesture, then asks, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Absolutely not!" Jacob booms.

"Nah, we're like a well-oiled machine, Jacob and me," Queenie pronounces. "Speaking of which... I think there's some lubricant somewhere in the house. I wonder if it works on bed springs?"

Credence, who has just taken a sip from his cup of tea, explosively expels it again back into the cup, causing a minor overflow onto the table.

Percy laughs out loud.

"Behave, Queenie!" Jacob chides playfully, then chuckles over the frying pan.

Queenie giggles, looking completely unrepentant while she mops up Credence's tea. "Just trying to be helpful."

"That's really appreciated, Queenie," Percy looks sideways at Credence. "We could try some of our own brand, angel, what do you think?"

Credence's eyes widen, while Queenie and Jacob laugh, and he quickly set down his cup. "I don't think I'm going to drink anything this morning. It's not safe."

"Sorry," Percy busses a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving Credence smiling happily, if flushed.

"Aww, no more teasing," Queenie says, giving Credence an extra rasher of bacon and a wide smile.

"Thank you," he says, trying not to slide under the table to hide.

The food is delicious. They talk about all kinds of things, from wondering how Newt and Tina are getting on with their nature and wildlife conservation efforts, to their plans for the day (shopping, Percy says, thankfully without elaborating) to the place Jacob and Queenie went to the night before.

Eventually, Jacob asks casually, "Oh, how was last night's movie?"

Credence immediately blushes, cursing himself for it. He only half remembers the name of it. "Um..."

"Did it have a happy ending?" Queenie asks sweetly.

Percy, feeling Credence's eyes on his profile, pleading for help, says, "It certainly did." He hides his smirk in his cup of coffee.


	14. The Smell of Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify PLAYLIST - updates with each chapter](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3EgTf1OL2fW9cN0LVIufbn)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter 14 Playlist** :  
> Femme fatale - Klischee  
> Whatever Lola Wants - The Sugar Sisters  
> Booty Swing - Parov Stelar  
> Ping Pong - Dimie Cat  
> Jasmine Flower - Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra (Traditional)  
> Kang Ding Love Song - Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra (Traditional)  
> Moonlight - Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra (Traditional)
> 
> It's been a while, hasn't it? I won't promise an exact update schedule... we know how well that went. *sheepish* But I certainly plan to be a lot faster than I was by chapter 13. I'm so, SO sorry for the long wait, but things are flowing now, I believe. :)
> 
> There's no dancing in this chapter, but as you can tell from the new additions to the playlist, it's a long chapter, and I hope it helps make up for the wait. To everyone who kept reminding me this story was missed - thank you for sticking with me while I sorted out a few things yet to come in future chapters. I appreciate you so much! ❤️

Well-fed and armed with a store address or two, as well as an overnight bag, they set off after brunch to find something pretty for Credence, who makes Percy smile when he dons his sunshine yellow dandelion shirt with jeans.

Despite his certainty that the red sequin dress, if still available, would never fit him, Credence tells Percy the address of the store.

As it happens, the dress is still there, and Percy runs a critical eye over it. "It's a very slender shape, with a straight cut and not much bust. You should definitely try it on. If it fits, it'll be a perfect dancing dress." He winks.

Credence blinks at him, then looks around nervously. "What if anyone sees?"

"Hmm. I have an idea." Percy moves around the shop, picks up a couple of random long men's coats, then slips the dress in between and walks towards the changing rooms, with Credence tagging along behind him. Once they get there, he hands all three items off to Credence and nudges him towards one of the open cubicles.

"Oh my God," Credence mutters, causing Percy to laugh, but he grips the clothes and hurries inside.

A few minutes later Percy, who's been hovering nearby, hears a gasp. "May I look?" he asks, near the curtain.

"Um... okay."

Percy moves the curtain aside slightly, and his eyes widen. Only the fact that the shop isn't that busy, and there are a couple of sales assistants roaming too close by for comfort, stops him from slipping inside and exploring the contrast between the shimmering red material and Credence's pale skin in great detail.

"Say something," Credence pleads softly, fingers twisting together in front of him, toes of one bare foot nervously rubbing up and down the other one.

"Sorry, darling, I was speechless." Percy whistles softly. "You look exquisite," he breathes. His eyes move over Credence's bare skin around the shoulder straps and into the dip of the low-cut back.

"Yeah?" Credence is smiling at him in the mirror, the tops of his cheeks flushed.

Percy tries to wriggle his heavy brows at him and fails, which makes Credence giggle. "Minx. Come closer to the curtain."

Credence takes a couple of steps back towards him, layers of red fringes swaying enticingly back and forth around his thighs as he moves, and Percy reluctantly looks away to glance back over his shoulder.

A couple of older ladies have entered the store and are engaging one of the sales assistants in conversation; the other is frantically texting behind the counter.

Percy, satisfied that everyone is reasonably busy, lets his fingertips play across the bare top of Credence's back. When the smooth skin shivers, he trails them down to the zip low on Credence's back, then turns his hand and glides his knuckles slowly back upwards over the warm, naked flesh.

"Percy..." Credence's eyes flutter closed briefly, then open wide when the strap is slid off his left shoulder and Percy's head pokes through the curtain to kiss it. 

"All this extra skin," Percy's voice is a low rumble, "is going to make taking you out a real test of my self-control."

Credence turns around to face him fully. "Percy, you'd take me out wearing this?"

Percy's eyes meet his. "Angel, I'd burst with pride taking you out in that dress."

Credence stares at him. This hasn't even occurred to him as a possibility, and his heart starts pounding with a strange mix of nervous excitement, fear and sheer love for Percy. "I thought I'd only wear something like this is private, for myself... and for you." He blushes at that last part.

"I hope you'll do that too," Percy tells him, stroking his cheek, his eyes tracking the range of emotions flickering across the beautiful features, "but I very much hope you'll allow me to show you off in public as well. Only if you're comfortable with that, of course."

Credence swallows around the lump in his throat and asks shakily, "Where would we go?"

Percy slips into the changing room then, no longer caring what anyone thinks of that, and takes Credence into his arms. "Anywhere we want to go, angel. If you're nervous about going somewhere... well, mainstream," he smiles against a downy cheek, "we'll find someplace you won't make every lady present green with envy of your beauty."

Credence is hiccupping softly into his shoulder, and his eyes are suspiciously shiny when Percy lifts his chin.

"But you need never be nervous with me, do you hear?" Percy says firmly. "I'll be your walking, talking, glaring fortress."

Credence laughs softly at that, and they smile at each other. "I love you."

"Love you more," Percy murmurs, and kisses him tenderly.

When he has his breath back, Credence manages to gasp, "Not possible."

Percy reluctantly steps back, smiling, giving him another long, appreciative once-over. "I'll wait for you outside the curtain, before I'm tempted to do something to you for which they'll have us arrested."

* * *

Percy buys the red sequin dress for Credence from a knowingly smirking sales assistant, while Credence pretends to be very interested in a display of ties.

After that, they head to a Castro District store Percy found online.

The moment they enter _Unmentionables_ —the Victorian-look shop tucked between a hairdresser and an engraver—it's immediately apparent to Credence that he is far from alone in his quest for all things silk and satin shaped to fit a less curvy silhouette. There are a number of other shoppers perusing the wares.

The ground floor of the quaint shop is filled with everything from evening gowns to playsuits from one purple and gold wall to the other. He daren't imagine what's tucked away on the mezzanine floor looming overhead.

His nerves have just begun to settle when a golden-haired sales assistant bearing the name tag 'Dorian' breezes over to them and encourages them to, "Browse to your hearts' content, you gorgeous creatures!"

"Oh, we will," Percy declares, beckoning Credence towards a selection of flowing gowns with open batwing sleeves, in a range of colours. They're high-cut, with a slit up one leg going all the way to the upper thigh.

Credence's eyes widen.

"Sir has excellent taste," Dorian purrs. "The perfect gown to show off shapely long legs and arms," he states with authority, eyeing Credence with far too much interest for Percy's liking.

"Quite right," Percy agrees, but he's frowning. "I think one of your other customers is trying to get your attention." He nods vaguely across the room.

"Really? Oh, well." Dorian sighs regretfully. "I trust you'll be okay on your own?"

"Yes, thanks," Credence mutters absently, tracing his fingers along one of the gowns Percy found.

"We'll be just fine." Percy gives the shopkeeper a look which speaks volumes, and Dorian takes the hint like a true professional and leaves with a smile. "Well, that's got rid of him," Percy murmurs, satisfied.

"Percy!" Credence gasps. "These are silk. All over! And they..." He boggles at the price.

"I know, angel. Imagine how wonderful they'll feel on your skin."

Credence does, and smiles, and he nods his acquiescence when Percy suggests two different colours to try—a deep purple and a royal blue.

They wander through the casual section, and end up with a couple of airy blouses and pairs of palazzo pants, which Credence knows he'll feel comfortable wearing almost anywhere. Percy adds a playsuit with a lobster print design to the armful, _just for fun_.

Credence tries everything on, with Percy passing his critical and extremely appreciate eye, as well as his hands, over it all, and they take the lot, though Credence wants only one of the gowns—the purple one—feeling guilty about the expense.

As Percy pays, Dorian is ooh-ing and aah-ing at each piece with great approval, then casually asks if they've been upstairs yet, a smirk playing about his lips.

Despite the smirk, Percy gets him to lead the way, staying a few steps behind with his arm possessively around Credence's shoulder.

Dorian wisely keeps his distance, and his eyes to himself.

When they reach the mezzanine at the top of the half-spiral staircase, Credence goes beet red. This floor is all lingerie, hosiery and sleepwear – chiffon, lace, satin and silk, as far as the eye can see.

Dorian steers them towards some babydolls, suggests teddies, stockings and garters, and panties suited to wear under gowns and keep things "firmly but gently under control" and, soon, Credence is off to another changing room with an armful of lacy, silky sweet nothings.

"I'll be right there, darling," Percy tells him with a smile, then turns to Dorian. "Now, I want a gift, a surprise – something he won't need to try on, something soft and flowing in which to be very comfortable and relaxed. Something that's both sexy and... angelic."

"You certainly know what you want, sir," Dorian says, with some admiration. He thinks for a few moments, tapping a long finger against his chin as he looks around. "I believe I have just the thing."

* * *

After Percy has paid for the surprise, and it's been added to the stack of items already waiting behind the counter downstairs, he goes up to take a peek inside the changing room, and his jaw drops.

Credence is twisting in front of the mirror, stopping mid-turn and peering back at him via the mirror, while the mint silk chiffon babydoll he's wearing still swings slowly around the very tops of his bare legs. He's wearing the knickers that come with it, and the little frills edging it just peek out under the nighty, skimming the tops of his thighs.

"Wow, angel!" Percy growls, licking his lips.

Credence peers at him through his lashes, smiling sweetly. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" Percy rasps. He slips inside the generously proportioned space.

Credence moves forward and away from him a few steps, but he hasn't stopped smiling.

Percy keeps going, taking his upper arms gently from behind just as they've nearly reached the mirror. He looks over Credence's shoulder, at his mirror image, then his face turns towards Credence's ear. "Look at you, baby." He nips at his earlobe, making Credence quiver. "Look how sweet and beautiful you are."

"You really think so?" Credence asks, but he's lost his hesitancy, his uncertainty. He's teasing now.

Percy's hands drop to his hips without warning, and he pulls him back against himself, smiling when Credence gasps. "What do you think?"

"I think," Credence says, his voice rather unsteady, "that I should change out of this quickly."

Percy chuckles, then murmurs into his ear, "Just a minute. Lets make sure you feel as good as you look." His left hand lightly cups his chin and jaw, then slowly runs down Credence's throat, fingers trailing through the hairs on his chest down to his heart thumping under the soft chiffon. His right hand moves up under the ruffled trim of the babydoll, thumb skimming Credence's bare stomach while he lifts the chiffon to watch in the mirror. His fingertips slide over the top of the panties, so sheer and thin; Credence's skin is hot through them, and extremely sensitive, because the slightest touch to the tip of his cock—barely held in by the delicate fabric—makes him moan deliciously.

"Oh, Percy, stop," Credence squeaks. "I'll be so embarrassed if we have to buy this... stained."

"You're so adorably flustered." Percy grins. "But don't worry, there's an easy way to prevent staining." And, before Credence has fully grasped what he's about to do, Percy has spun him and leaned him against the wall, and has fallen to his knees.

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" Credence manages to gasp, in the time it takes Percy to tug the panties down to the floor, lean in with one hand hot on his left thigh, the other holding the babydoll up and baring his stomach, and take him deep into his mouth. And then he can do nothing but close his eyes and bite down on his knuckles while Percy sucks and licks and quietly slurps him towards an explosive but, by necessity, silent climax within a couple of minutes.

Credence opens his eyes and turns his face to watch them in the mirror—Percy worshipping him on his knees, while he has the fingers of one hand buried in his short black hair. He has a moment to wonder how much his life has change from utter misery to _this_ – to being loved by this wonderful man, and then he comes in thick spurts down Percy's throat while biting his hand with a muffled groan.

When his knees buckle, Percy catches him, sitting back on his haunches and pulling him down onto his lap. The smooth fabric of his black trousers teases Credence's oversensitive cock where it rests against the swell between his thighs.

"Do you need help with that, Percy?" Credence murmurs into his ear, once he's recovered a little. One hand slides between them to trace the outline of Percy's cock.

Percy gasps, widening his thighs when Credence shimmies backwards on his knees and leans forward, slim fingers sliding down his zip, bare arse up in the air with mint chiffon falling down either side of it. "Please," Percy breathes.

While Credence bobs up and down on his cock, Percy glances at the mirror and wishes for nothing more than a rear view of him but, as it is, it takes an embarrassingly short time before he spills into the soft mouth, swallowing back his groan as best he can, while caressing the blushing cheeks.

* * *

They're loaded down with several bags containing everything from flimsy stockings to the purple silk gown, as well as 2 pairs of shoes Dorian convinced them were essential—a low-heeled pair in nude, with silver and gold accents, to match any evening gown and dance in; and a casual pair of black ballerinas to go with daytime wear. Percy adds a pair of fluffy white feather boudoir slippers after he sees Credence gaze at them longingly.

A brief discussion with Dorian has yielded a short list of venues where Credence won't feel awkward about trying out his feminine apparel in public.

"You spent so much money on me today." Credence sighs, once they're back in the car.

"And every single cent was worth it. Please stop worrying about that, angel. I'd much rather look at you in silk than at a wallet of money." He smiles when Credence laughs at that. "Trust me, I'm going to enjoy you wearing all that at least as much as you will." Percy winks at him. Then he leans over and kisses his lips, which are turned down with guilt, then kisses them again, and again, until they're smiling and wet and slightly puffy.

"I want to give you something," Credence says breathlessly.

"You're all I want." Percy slides his hand into his hair, thumb caressing his cheek. Then he smiles. "If you feel obliged to give me anything else, I'll take you up on that offer of baking me something nice in my kitchen at some point."

Credence laughs. "Okay, I can do that."

"Perfect. That's a bargain." Percy grins. He starts the car. "Shall we go home?"

"Yes, please," Credence says at once.

There's a boyishly happy smile playing around Percy's lips as he starts the car and navigates out of the small side street and into the afternoon traffic and, when it occurs to Credence that it might be because of his easy acceptance of Percy's place as _Home_ , his heart bounces in his chest.

* * *

The Marina District impresses Credence even more in the daytime. He realises that both the Golden Gate and Bay Bridge are visible from many parts of it, and the houses are beautiful and streets well-kept. It looks like such a safe place, a world apart from... Pike Street, and New York City in general.

"You seem very deep in thought," Percy says, as he pulls into Lorca Crescent. He gives Credence a concerned sideways glance.

Credence smiles. "Just thinking about how lovely it is here."

That lights up Percy's face in an instant, and he squeezes his knee, before he turns into the driveway.

By silent agreement, they take all of Credence's new clothes upstairs, depositing them by the bedroom door, along with his overnight bag.

Percy watches him assess the bags, a slow smile spreading over his face. "You know, anything you want to keep here... there's plenty of room in my closet."

"You wouldn't mind?" Credence asks, his head tilted.

"Not at all." Percy squeezes his shoulders, his thumbs drawing circles over the skin just inside the collar of Credence's shirt. "In fact..." He takes his hand and leads him to the chest of drawers in the walk-in closet. "Let's also clear you a drawer in here, for all that lovely lingerie." He grins. "More room is always available as needed."

Credence looks at him and smiles. "Thank you, Percy." Suddenly, his eyes widen. "I need to wash everything first. Imagine if anyone else tried those things on and... you know, got carried away." He blushes.

Percy laughs. "My washing machine has a perfectly good cycle for silk and delicates."

For the rest of the afternoon, the washing machine softly rumbles away, and an ever increasing assortment of lingerie dries on a clothes airer by the open balcony door, with the breeze blowing the soft scents of jasmine and lavender into the room. The stereo is playing traditional Chinese music—for being calm, rather than dancing, Percy says with a smile—and Percy introduces Credence properly to his favourite book.

"I meant to give this to you the other night, after telling you all about Shangri-La." He plucks a well-thumbed copy of _Lost Horizon_ by James Hilton off his living room shelf.

Credence smiles. "I want to read all of it, but for now... will you read some of your favourite parts to me?"

And so they end up in the wicker peacock chair. Percy suggests Credence sit on his lap, but he's worried about breaking the chair, which only makes Percy laugh, and slides to the floor instead, sitting between Percy's legs with his feet tucked into his side, his arms folded on Percy's left thigh and his cheek resting on it.

"This is Conway's, the main character's, introduction to Shangri-La," Percy says, playing with Credence's curls while he holds the novel open with the other hand. " _To Conway, seeing it first, it might have been a vision fluttering out of that solitary rhythm in which lack of oxygen had encompassed all his faculties. It was, indeed, a strange and half-incredible sight. A group of coloured pavilions clung to the mountainside with none of the grim deliberation of a Rhineland castle, but rather with the chance delicacy of flower petals impaled upon a crag. It was superb and exquisite._ " He smiles at Credence's sigh. " _An austere emotion carried the eye upward from milk-blue roofs to the grey rock bastion above, tremendous as the Wetterhorn above Grindelwald._ "

"Why do I know that word?" Credence asks, shuddering. "It's something creepy."

"It's a place in Switzerland," Percy tells him, chuckling. "But there's an author who's named a 1920s cartoon villain after it, maybe you're thinking of that one? You know the type: blustering, quite ridiculous looking with a bleached walrus moustache. And determined to rule the world, of course."

Credence laughs. "Yes! Now I remember. I saw the name on a cover in a book store once." He bites his lip. "I shouldn't interrupt your reading though." Credence kisses his thigh and rests his cheek on it again.

"You can interrupt and ask questions any time you like, angel."

Credence's fingers stroke his thigh lightly to acknowledge the words, as Percy continues reading random passages.

" _Then the whole range, much nearer now, paled into fresh splendour; a full moon rose, touching each peak in succession like some celestial lamplighter, until the long horizon glittered against a blue-black sky._ "

"Lovely," Credence murmurs.

Percy smiles, jumping several pages ahead to a scene about the interior of the lamasery. " _Conway alone submitted to a rich and growing enchantment. It was not so much any individual thing that attracted him as the gradual revelation of elegance, of modest and impeccable taste, of harmony so fragrant that it seemed to gratify the eye..._ "

Humming quietly, Credence listens with great attention, holding his breath momentarily when Percy moves on to a description of the atmosphere of the mountain retreat.

" _One had to breathe consciously and deliberately, which, though disconcerting at first, induced after a time an almost ecstatic tranquility of mind. The whole body moved in a single rhythm of breathing, walking, and thinking, the lungs, no longer discrete and automatic, were disciplined to harmony with mind and limb._ "

Credence muses, "With even breathing described so beautifully, I bet there's a romance in this story."

"Excellent guess!" Percy flicks through the pages, while Credence laughs softly. Once he finds what he's looking for, he lightly strokes his fingers up and down Credence's nape. " _Passing along a cloister, he reached the terrace leaning over the valley. The scent of tuberose assailed him, full of delicate associations; in China it was called 'the smell of moonlight'. He thought whimsically that if moonlight had a sound also, it might well be the Rameau gavotte he had heard so recently, and that set him thinking of the little Manchu._ "

Credence shifts, turns his head, and smiles up at him as he finds a different passage. His smile widens when Percy's fingertips trace the appropriate features of his face as he reads. " _She had the long, slender nose, high cheekbones, and eggshell pallor of the Manchu; her black hair was drawn tightly back and braided; she looked very finished and miniature. Her mouth was like a little pink convolvulus, and she was quite still, except for her long-fingered hands._ "

"What's a convolvulus?" Credence asks, turning his hand and linking his fingers with Percy's, arresting their stroking motions.

"A flower. A kind of morning glory." Percy smiles. He finds another passage, reads over it once or twice, then tells it to Credence, looking deep into his eyes. " _He was, and he knew it, very quietly in love with the little Manchu. His love demanded nothing, not even reply; it was a tribute of the mind, to which his senses added only a flavour._ "

"I bet he'd like a reply though," Credence says, raising himself to his knees.

"I'm sure." Percy breathes.

"I love you," Credence says, arching his long neck to press his lips to Percy's. It's a tender kiss full of sighs and soft breaths, taken at intervals as needed. When their lips finally part, Credence says, "I love the flavour added by the senses, too."

"Mmm, so do I, my love." Percy's arms are firm around him, holding Credence close where he's still kneeling between his legs. "What would you like to do this evening? Go out for dinner? Go dancing? Go straight to bed?" His lips are nuzzling along Credence's cheek while he speaks, his breath warm on the smooth skin.

"Can we..." Credence whimpers softly when Percy's mouth moves along his cheekbone and to his ear, while his fingertips squeeze under the waistband of his jeans at the back. "Can we stay here, and... oh!" The tongue tip at the outer rim of his ear makes him shiver. "Can we... Percy, I can't think!"

Laughing softly, Percy pulls back a little. "Sorry. What would you like to do, angel?"

Credence smiles, looking bashful. "Can we bathe together? In the big spa bath? And stay home all night?"

A bright smile spreads over Percy's face. "We sure can." He stands, drawing Credence up with him. "Why don't you start running the bath, angel? Pour in anything that takes your fancy, while I get the last of your new things out of the wash."

Credence kisses him sweetly and makes his way to the bathroom with a smile back over his shoulder, having no idea a yet unseen surprise gift will dry by the open door while they're bathing.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not very active on [Tumblr](https://sweetsorcery.tumblr.com/) anymore, but I am much more so on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sweetsorcery), so feel free to follow and/or message me there!
> 
> Copyright of this fandom, some settings and its characters - J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and possibly other right holders. This story is written purely for the entertainment of fans, and no profit is made.


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